Peace and Space
by Drogna
Summary: Rip leaves the Waverider to settle in Central City, where he opens an antiques shop and tries to live a normal life. He needs space and time to find himself, but he also needs to get away from Sara before he does something stupid - like tell her he cares about her. Unfortunately trouble follows him. Sequel to Peace Stained with Blood.
1. I Ask for Insubstantial Time

Peace and Space

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Legends of Tomorrow.

* * *

AN:

This is a sequel to "Peace Stained with Blood" in which Rip is helped by Team Flash to get over his brainwashing by the Legion. I found it somewhat incongruous that Rip decided to leave at the end of S2 given Sara's speech in Moonshot where she basically tells him to stay. So this is a romance (Time Canary) because people do stupid stuff when they're in love and Rip cannot be thinking straight at this point. However, there is also some plot and it takes Sara and Rip a while to work things out.

It mostly ignores events in The Flash, even though quite a lot of it is set in Central City with Team Flash being central to the story. Caitlin and Julian are still dating and Killer Frost doesn't make an appearance.

Updates may not be the most frequent, because this is a work in progress, but I'll do my best to get stuff up in a timely manner.

* * *

"I ask for insubstantial time: peace and space

… while fate teaches my beaten spirit to grieve." – Virgil, Aeneid, Bk 4.435-436

* * *

Rip already knew where he was going when he left the Waverider. Yes, he had just lied to Sara about the reason that he was leaving, and he'd have left without saying a word if he could have done, but the important point was that he was leaving.

They'd all do much better without him, as had been demonstrated by their months of travel fixing aberrations without need for his presence. Sara may have given him a nice speech about him being one of them, a Legend, but he'd never fitted in and they both knew it. Having a former Time Master on the ship was probably more of a hindrance these days. He was still trying to do things the old way when they'd had much better success without adhering to the rules he'd been set.

Except he knew that was only partially true and he was basically lying to himself about the real reason he was leaving. The issue was that things were complicated and he didn't want to admit, even to himself, that he was struggling with understanding who he was now. He wasn't fully over his brush with his darker side, courtesy of the Legion of Doom, he'd never really been able to grieve properly for his wife and child, and then there was the fact that he'd returned to the Waverider to find that Sara was a brilliant Captain, leaving him without any kind of purpose on the ship.

But if that had been it, he could still have found the time and space to recover himself and work out what he was supposed to do with his life. The problem was Sara herself, and not just her Captaincy. Or rather the problem was his proximity to Sara.

He didn't know when it had happened, or even how, but at some point he'd begun to care about Sara. He'd only worked out what was going on when he'd tried to kill her, or at least when he remembered that he'd tried to kill her after he'd been returned to his right mind. He'd hurt and killed other people whilst he was Evil Rip, and he felt all of his betrayals deeply, but it was Sara's attempted murder that had been the hardest thing to deal with. It was her death that his nightmares were about, over and over again. His subconscious had clearly been trying to tell him something.

And she was a magnificent Captain, one of the best he'd ever seen. Watching her deal with everything that they'd had to face had simply reinforced Rip's opinion that Sara was something special. He got a small, warm glow in his chest every time he looked at her, and he recognised that feeling because he'd experienced it before. He wished he'd been able to feel happy for that, but instead it had horrified him, and the guilt hit him hard.

Miranda and Jonas had been dead for a just over a year and a half in his personal subjective timeline. He could not care for someone else, no matter how unlikely a relationship might be with that person or how tentative the feelings. It felt like a huge betrayal of his family, a desecration of their memories to even be thinking such thoughts, and he could not do that to them. He had always imagined, had intended, that Miranda would be his first and only love, and quite frankly he'd never expected to even entertain the idea that he would love someone else. He knew that one day his grief over her death would lessen, but he had never had any interest in any women other than her before. He didn't want to get over her or move on.

By far the biggest problem was that Rip looked at Sara and saw everything in her that had attracted him to Miranda. She was strong, independent, beautiful, smart, and more than his equal. And the first time he'd understood that, he'd returned to his quarters and drunk three large tumblers of rum because his chest had physically hurt.

He knew he still had to work through everything that the Legion of Doom had brainwashed him into doing and that he really wasn't over it, despite what he was trying to persuade everyone else into believing. However, he'd honestly thought that, after Caitlin's help, he could return to the Waverider and be part of the team again. Even if they did look at him differently now, but he'd tried not to notice that. He knew they'd need time to adjust after everything he'd put them through. If he was having trouble dealing with it then it was only to be expected that they would too.

The issue he was having was that he couldn't deal with the aftermath of being brainwashed by the Legion, the depression, the flashbacks, the nightmares, the guilt… and his feelings for Sara. It was too much, and it was tearing him apart. Sara had never, even looked at him with anything more than professionalism. He knew she didn't care for him in the same way that he was beginning to care for her. There was only one solution. He needed distance from the Waverider, as well as from its new Captain, and with the current crisis over, now was the right time to go. It was time for a new start.

He entered the jump-ship, stowed his gear and sat down in the pilot's seat. He started on the pre-flight check list and powered up the engines. He leaned back in his seat for a moment.

"Gideon, I'm going to miss you, my friend."

"I will miss you too, Captain," said Gideon. "Although I still don't see the necessity for you to leave the Waverider."

"You know I work better alone, Gideon," said Rip. "Sara will take good care of you."

"She put me in the path of a meteor storm," said Gideon, somewhat crossly.

"I put you in the path of a nuclear weapon," Rip pointed out.

"After you exhausted all other possibilities," said Gideon. "We could have shot down the meteors and avoided damage. It took me quite some time to repair myself with Mr Jackson's and your help."

Rip sighed. "We've all made poor decisions occasionally. Sara's still learning. I was terrible when I was a new Captain. Please don't make this any harder than it already is, Gideon. I need to know that you'll look after her and the team."

"Of course, Captain. It is my primary function to protect my Captain and crew," said Gideon. "Whoever they may be."

"Thank you, Gideon," said Rip. "Could you open the bay doors, please? It's time I took my leave."

"Of course, Captain. Please take care of yourself. I am not going to be around to ensure your safety," said Gideon. The bay doors opened.

"I'm not planning on doing anything dangerous. I'm retiring after all. I'm sure I'll be quite alright on my own," said Rip, lifting the jump-ship up and out of the Waverider.

He steered into the temporal zone. It was time he started a new phase in his life and left Sara and the Waverider behind him.

* * *

It had been about two weeks since the Legends had collected their Captain and departed for whatever adventures they'd been off to. Since then, Team Flash had taken an excursion to Gorilla City, which had been followed by Central City had been attacked by Gorilla Grodd, Barry was no closer to saving Iris, and somehow Caitlin was dating Julian. At least something good had happened to someone.

It was late and Barry was fiddling with a new computer program that he'd been writing. One of Cisco's alarms sounded, but it wasn't their standard metahuman alert or the police scanner. This was the STAR Labs alarm that meant someone or something was approaching the building. Barry frowned, put on his Flash costume in a blur of light and went to investigate at super-speed.

He reached the STAR Labs carpark and realised immediately why the alarm had sounded. There was a spaceship in the carpark, rapidly cloaking, and all he'd caught was its general shape before it disappeared. The most alarming thing about it was that it definitely wasn't the Waverider. He had about a second to reflect on the kind of life he had that meant he was worried because the wrong spaceship was in the carpark, and not about it being a spaceship in general, and then the door opened. A familiar figure strode down the ramp.

"Rip? Where's the Waverider?" asked Barry, coming to meet his guest as he stepped off the ship.

"Off saving time somewhere, I expect," said Rip, as he used a remote control to shut the door behind him. "I've borrowed the jump-ship."

Barry frowned. "Okay. What needs saving and where?"

Rip raised his eyebrows. "Er, nothing actually. I just decided that I should strike out on my own for a while, and I thought I'd drop in and see Caitlin and the rest of Team Flash before heading on my way."

Barry smiled. "Well, it's good to see you again. Caitlin's gone home but she'll be back tomorrow morning. Do you want to wait? You can have your old room back if you need a bed for the night."

Rip rocked back on his heels for a moment, hands in his pockets, eyes on his feet, and then looked up at Barry, before glancing back towards where the jump-ship had been. "Thank you, it appears that I need to recalibrate the jump-ship's temporal delineator. I was supposed to arrive mid-afternoon."

Barry shrugged. "You're always welcome here, no matter what time it is. Come on, I'll update you on what's been happening over the last couple of weeks while you were away."

Rip nodded and followed Barry into the building as Barry gave him the story of how they had defeated a gorilla army. Rip was interested but unusually quiet and didn't offer any further explanation for why he was here. Something was going on here, something that Rip wasn't quite ready to talk about yet, but maybe Caitlin could get it out of him. Barry found Rip blankets and a pillow, and set him up in his old room in the lab.

"Ah, fond memories of broken furniture and late night Doctor Who," said Rip, looking around the room.

Barry smiled. "I can find you somewhere else if you'd like, but we usually keep clean sheets on the bed in here because we're never sure when we might need an isolation room."

"I'll be fine. I can assure you that it's more comfortable than the floor of the jump-ship," said Rip, taking off his coat and jacket. "Besides it's nice to be somewhere familiar, and I could do with a good night's sleep."

Rip did look somewhat better than when Barry had last seen him, but then Rip had been recovering from the grips of a period of deep depression and the aftermath of Thawne's mind control. He looked like he'd at least been sleeping better and eating, which Barry knew were things he'd had issues with before.

"How long has it been for you? Since you were here?"

"Oh, er, three weeks. Not long," said Rip.

"Okay, only one week more than for us," said Barry. "Are you staying long?"

"No, just passing through," said Rip.

Barry nodded. "Well, make yourself comfortable. I should get home to Iris. I'll see you in the morning."

Rip nodded. "Good night, Barry."

Barry headed out of the lab, but sent Caitlin and the others a text to let them know that they had a guest at the Lab. He didn't want anyone getting a surprise, even though they all knew Rip after his previous stay. Barry had a feeling that Rip might be hanging around for a while, despite his suggestion to the contrary.

* * *

Caitlin had been surprised to get the text from Barry quite so late at night, and even more surprised by its contents.

" _We have a visitor at the lab. Rip's here and staying with us for a couple of days. Jump-ship is cloaked and in the carpark."_

To be fair, she'd had stranger texts from Barry, but not many.

She arrived early at the Lab, with coffee, tea and pain au chocolat. It was easily Rip's favourite breakfast food, and it had only taken her a week and half to work it out. The man himself very rarely expressed a preference for anything, and she'd had to work it out through observation, trial and error. Hot chocolate had come into the same category, and she'd only found out about that the day before he'd left. She'd wondered about why it was so hard to get him to admit that he liked anything, but had never found the time to ask him with all the other things that they'd been dealing with.

She headed around to his room, not sure whether she'd find him awake yet, but he was sat cross-legged on his bed, reading a book. She knocked on the door.

"Caitlin," smiled Rip, looking up from his book. "It's good to see you again." He put the book down.

"You too," said Caitlin. "I brought breakfast," she added, holding up the cups from the coffee cart and the brown bag containing the pastries.

"You are an angel," said Rip. "I am famished."

"Come on, I'll set it out on one of the tables in the cortex and you can tell me all about how you come to be in Central City again," said Caitlin.

Rip nodded. "That is only fair after I turn up on your doorstep in the middle of the night. I really must look at the fractional stabiliser on the time manifold."

He followed Caitlin out of the side lab and into the cortex, where he helped her set up a table and two chairs so that they had somewhere to eat. She noted that he was looking relatively well, certainly better than when she'd seen him last. They sat, and she handed him his tea, pain au chocolat and a paper napkin, getting a small smile of appreciation for her trouble.

"Do you mind if I get the professional questions out of the way first?" she asked.

"Not at all, Doctor Snow," replied Rip, as he sipped his tea.

"Okay. Apologies if these sound a bit patronising," said Caitlin. "Did Gideon sort out the anti-depressants for you?"

Rip nodded, his eyes suddenly serious. "Yes, and I am taking them faithfully. I've got enough to keep me going for at least a month, but obviously I'd appreciate it if you could prescribe me more when those run out."

Caitlin frowned. "You're not going to be back on the Waverider before then?"

"I'm not planning to be," replied Rip.

Caitlin wanted to ask why, but she suspected that they'd get to that. "Any problems with the medication? Side effects?"

"None, apart from some slight queasiness when I first started taking them, but Gideon assured me that it was normal and would pass. She was correct, of course," said Rip.

"Good," said Caitlin. "And your general mental state? How are you feeling?"

"Mostly fine," said Rip. "A few wobbles here and there, but I haven't had any thoughts about harming myself."

Caitlin was very pleased to hear that, but suspected he was playing down the "wobbles" for her benefit. "That's great news, Rip. So, the medication seems to be working. How are you sleeping?"

Rip shrugged. "Well, not soundly, but I can sleep. The dreams aren't as horrible as they were and not every night. I consider it to be quite good progress given my chronic insomnia when I last saw you."

"You do look better," said Caitlin, sipping her coffee and reaching for one of the other pain au chocolats. Given how terrible he'd looked when he'd arrived at their door the first time, that wasn't hard.

"I feel better, but then I think I'd be dead if it weren't for your efforts," said Rip, somewhat seriously.

"All I did was set you in the direction you needed to go," said Caitlin. "You did all the work yourself."

Rip let out a huff of breath, and looked at Caitlin with definite fondness. "I think we both know that I'd never have managed to pull myself out of the deep, dark pit I was in without your help. And the rest of Team Flash, to be honest. I'm certain that Dr Who marathons should be added to the PTSD therapy manual."

Caitlin grinned. "Don't tell Cisco that, he'll start lobbying for it."

Rip smiled back, picking up his own pain au chocolat and biting into it, with enthusiasm. "Oh, I'd missed these," he said, happily.

"No pain au chocolate on the Waverider?"

"We haven't really had time to stop off to pick anything up," said Rip, and Caitlin was pretty certain that was a half-truth at best. It was a time ship, after all.

"But you're eating healthily?" asked Caitlin.

"I eat three meals a day and my weight is in the healthy range," said Rip. "Admittedly, near the lower end, but Gideon has been monitoring it."

"Okay, something to keep an eye on. So, now that the difficult questions are out of the way, is this a social call or were you hoping for a therapy session? I can definitely find time for one if you need it."

"Actually both," said Rip. "I've decided to retire from the Legends. Sara has proven herself to be a far more competent Captain than I ever was and she has a good team, one that operated very satisfactorily without my presence for several months. They really don't need me, so I decided that it was time to give them their space and do something on my own."

Caitlin frowned. That hadn't really been what she was expecting. She'd thought perhaps that he was on a solo mission for the team, or perhaps scouting ahead, or even just on vacation. This sounded rather more permanent than that. And Rip was trying very hard to appear to be totally fine about what he'd told her. However, she'd had two weeks of daily therapy sessions with him and had got very good at knowing when he was either lying to himself or to her. This was definitely one of those things.

"Rip, you've been through a lot lately. Are you sure that now is the best time to be making big decisions?" Caitlin was a little concerned.

"I couldn't stay, Caitlin," said Rip, all pretence disappearing from his face. "They don't blame me for what I did, but they do look at me differently. And how could they not?"

Caitlin reached out a hand and put it on his arm. "Maybe they just need some time."

"Maybe, but everything else that I said was true. Sara has found her calling, and a ship can't have two Captains. At best I'm a distraction, at worst I'm a potential liability in a dangerous situation. You should have seen her. She was magnificent…" said Rip, his eyes getting a faraway and fond look. "She saved reality itself."

"You were there too," said Caitlin, but she'd caught the look of longing in his eyes when he mentioned Sara. Something else was definitely going on here.

"In a purely supporting role," said Rip, dismissively, pulling a piece off his pastry, but not eating it.

Caitlin let out a surreptitious sigh. She was fairly certain that the last thing Rip needed was to be alone at the moment, with the demons of Thawne's brainwashing still haunting him and the grief for his family also unresolved, despite what he might say to the contrary. She doubted that it would be healthy for him to be left without his support network at the moment, but it appeared that he'd made the decision and she didn't think he'd go back on it now.

"So, what are you going to do now?"

Rip looked down at his breakfast and then back to Caitlin. "I have absolutely no idea." He spoke as if he was telling her a secret, and she realised that he looked as lost as she'd ever seen him. "I've never been anything except a Time Master, and I am totally without a clue as to where I go next. The Legends are covering the aberrations, and the jump-ship isn't the Waverider anyway. I have no task that I'm needed for, and no resources even if I did want to continue travelling through time. I'll have to do some time travelling, assuming I don't just want to drift wherever I end up…"

"Drift?" asked Caitlin.

"If a time traveller stays in a time that isn't their own for too long then they experience something called "time drift". You can forget who you are, start believing that you've always been there and lose yourself. It can be quite pleasant, which is why it's incredibly hard to pull oneself away and go back to your old life. However, if I have no reason to remain a time traveller, I could pick a time period and just… settle down. It's what Miranda chose to do," said Rip, with a touch of sadness.

"It sounds like you have some decisions to make," said Caitlin. "Starting with what you might want to do and, I guess, _when_ you might want to do it."

Rip nodded slowly. "How do I even begin to decide something like that?"

Caitlin shrugged. "You need to look at the skills you have and then work out what you might be good at."

"And I'm going to have to earn some money," said Rip. "The jump-ship doesn't have a fabricator like the Waverider. I mean, I have bank accounts that I've set up for emergencies, but certainly they don't contain enough money for me to live on forever. I suppose I could jump back and set up some more…"

"Or you just get a job," said Caitlin. "You'll need something to stop you getting bored."

Rip frowned. "Well, it would certainly be a novelty."

"But you're going to need somewhere to stay until you can work out what you want to do," said Caitlin.

"Ah, yes," said Rip. "I can take the jump-ship back into the time stream and work out where to go from there. I should probably go shopping for supplies first." He resumed eating with a thoughtful look on his face.

"Or you could, you know, stay here with us," said Caitlin, with a slight sideways dip of her head.

Rip's eyes widened for a second, clearly having genuinely not thought of that. "Oh, yes, I suppose I could. As long as you and the rest of the team don't mind?"

Caitlin smiled warmly. "Of course not. You're an honorary member of the team anyway. You're always welcome here."

* * *

Sara hit the training dummy hard and followed it up with a roundhouse kick. She'd set herself up in one of the cargo compartments that were on the lower deck of the Waverider, preferring to train in privacy. Of course, she couldn't ever find anywhere on the ship that Gideon couldn't go.

"Captain Lance, Captain Hunter asked me to inform you if you were in danger of injuring yourself whilst training," said Gideon.

"Did he? Well, Captain Hunter can go screw himself," said Sara, kicking out again with as much force as she could muster. The training dummy flew backwards. She felt a muscle in her leg pull and winced. "Damn it! He's a pain in the ass even when he isn't here."

She sat down on the mat, breathing rapidly from her exertions. She might have to acknowledge the fact that despite what she'd said to him, she was angry at him for deciding to leave, and equally angry at herself for not stopping him. He definitely had a point, she was the Captain now, and they had Jax to handle the mechanical side of things, and Nate to cover the history and weird artefacts; they didn't really _need_ him as such. Except this team had never really been about needing people for their skills alone, otherwise they'd have offloaded Mick as soon as Amaya arrived to take on the role of muscle. They didn't have a one in, one out policy. Besides, Rip was smart, handy with a pistol, and it had been nice to have someone to act as her second in command, especially when she was questioning herself. He'd been the one to tell her to believe in herself.

"Gideon, do we know where Rip went?"

"He did not inform me what his intentions were but I can activate the tracking program for the jump-ship," said Gideon.

"No, it's okay. If he'd wanted us to know then he'd have said."

Gideon didn't reply to that.

"I should never have let him leave. He's not over the mind control thing and he jokes about us getting into trouble, but he's the one who needed rescuing from the Legion of Doom," said Sara.

"Captain Hunter travelled alone for many years before he decided to assemble the crew," said Gideon.

"And how many times did he return injured from whatever he was doing?"

"Forty-nine," said Gideon. "Not all his injuries were serious though." Which, Sara noted, suggested that some were. And wait, he was injured _forty-nine_ times over thirteen years whilst on missions for the Time Masters and this was the first she was hearing about it? When she saw him again they were going to have words about that.

"Great, so what was that? Roughly once every three or four months?" asked Sara.

"Approximately, Captain Lance," said Gideon, cheerfully. She was always cheerful, even when she was reporting dire malfunctions or that her previous Captain had apparently been somewhat careless with his own life on occasion.

Sara sighed. Rip was going to end up getting himself into trouble and he wouldn't have the Waverider's resources to fix himself when he inevitably got hurt. However, if she went after him then he'd accuse her of being overprotective and ignoring his wishes to leave the team.

"The jump-ship has a distress beacon, doesn't it?" asked Sara.

"Yes, Captain," replied Gideon.

"Monitor for it as a priority and let me know the moment it goes off," said Sara. She was definitely thinking "when" and not "if".

"I already am, Captain," said Gideon again.

"Oh, okay, good," replied Sara. She should have known Gideon wouldn't let Rip out on his own without keeping an eye out for his distress call.

She knew that she was being paranoid, but given his track record, she had a very bad feeling about Rip's future prospects. He was the one who'd given them the lecture about how dangerous being a time traveller was, so he couldn't blame her if she'd taken it to heart. And now she was worried about the idiot, and who knew when or if she'd see him again. She should just put him from her mind and get on with the job of being Captain.

She grabbed her towel and decided to head for the shower. She walked down the familiar corridors, and did her best to think about the next mission. She passed Nate on the way who was looking quite miserable.

"What's the problem?" she asked.

"I think Gideon hates me," said Nate, with a glance up at the ceiling.

"Okay," said Sara, with some scepticism. "Why do you think Gideon hates you?"

"Well, this morning she wouldn't give me any hot water for my shower, then she refused to fabricate me a cup of coffee, and now she's turning off the lights whenever I walk into a room," said Nate.

Sara let out a long sigh and glanced upwards. "Gideon! Quit it."

"Not until Doctor Heywood apologises," said Gideon.

"I don't know what I did!" said Nate, plaintively.

"Then perhaps you should think harder," replied Gideon.

"Argh!" said Nate, with frustration.

"You didn't tell her to buffer faster again, did you?" asked Sara. "You know she hates that."

"She's been in a bad mood ever since Rip left," said Nate.

"Well, that's hardly surprising," said Sara. "The two of them were together for thirteen years before Rip decided to recruit us and then he just leaves one day. I expect she misses him."

"She's a _computer_ ," said Nate.

Sara rolled her eyes. It was just as well that Rip wasn't here. He'd have probably shouted at Nate for that remark, but Sara was more inclined to educate him and it seemed that Gideon had already found a suitable punishment.

"She's the ship's AI, a member of the crew, and her name is Gideon. She hates being called a computer. She also hates it when you compare her to a games console or suggest she's just a machine. She's saved our lives more times than I care to count. Now, goddamn apologise!" As it turned out, Sara did find herself a little cross on Gideon's behalf and she really didn't feel like dealing with this today.

Nate looked somewhat taken aback at Sara's tone and a little guilty. "Gideon," he said, "I'm sorry that I said you were just a computer. I'm good at putting my foot in my mouth like that. I know you're more than that."

"Apology accepted, Doctor Heywood," said Gideon, brightly.

"Good," said Sara, and moved away down the corridor again. It seemed to be more than she could expect that her crew would play nice together.

"Sorry, Sara," shouted Nate towards her retreating back. Sara waved off his apology.

"Captain Lance," said Gideon, once Sara had reached her quarters. "Thank you for interceding on my behalf and what you said. I was perhaps overly sensitive to his remarks. I'm unsure why they affected me more than usual."

"It's okay, Gideon. I miss him too," said Sara, with a slight sigh.

Gideon was silent in reply.

* * *

"Okay," said Julian, standing in front of the glass board with a white marker pen. "What are your main skills?"

Somehow, he had been roped into this brainstorming session with Rip, Barry, Cisco and Caitlin to find out what kind of job they should be looking into for Rip. He still wasn't quite sure how that had happened but it possibly had something to do with Caitlin smiling at him and asking nicely, that worked for a surprising range of things these days. He quickly dismissed that thought before it could distract him further.

Rip thought for a moment, and then spoke.

"Making discreet alterations to the timeline to prevent aberrations, pistol marksmanship, time ship piloting, temporal navigation, time ship maintenance and time line monitoring," he replied. "Oh, erm, AI maintenance."

Julian, Caitlin, Barry and Cisco exchanged glances. Julian did not write any of those things on the board, and he was quite sure that they'd bitten off more than any of them could chew with this exercise. He would never have believed that he'd be trying to find a new job for a former guardian of the timeline. They were also discovering that Rip really didn't understand the nature of the employment market or even what you did to get a job.

"I'm sure that was all really useful for a Time Master," said Caitlin, gently, "but we're talking about transferrable skills. Things which are more general."

"I suppose I'm quite good at history too, although I'm never quite sure what counts as history when you're a Time Master," said Rip, with a frown.

Julian wrote down "History expert" on the board, and it sat there alone while Rip continued to frown.

"There's got to be other things. I expect you're good at computers, being from the future," said Barry, with a hand out to indicate the nearest computer.

"Well, I can use one, although I'm not much of a programmer," said Rip, which knowing Rip probably meant that he'd programmed the Waverider himself and invented at least one programming language. "I might have to familiarise myself with this particular era's operating systems."

Julian wrote down "Computer literate" and decided not to go into more detail.

"You like to read," said Caitlin, as if that was something to be proud of. In Julian's experience, just enjoying a good book didn't get you many jobs, at least not on its own. Rip gave a shrug.

Julian wrote down "Can read".

"Dude, a little harsh," said Cisco.

"I assume you can write as well," said Julian, ignoring Cisco, and added "and write" to the end of the line as Rip confirmed.

"I'm reasonably good with maths and physics as it applies to time travel," said Rip.

"Numerate" Julian added to the board, and "Some temporal physics knowledge" he put on a separate line beneath.

There was silence for a moment as they all contemplated the board. There wasn't anything there which suggested an obvious career path.

"Maybe you could be a history teacher?" asked Barry, tentatively.

"I have no teaching qualifications, and quite frankly, I suspect that I wouldn't have the patience," said Rip.

"That didn't stop some of my professors," said Julian, dryly.

"Even so, I'd stand no chance of any education establishment giving me a job without a qualification," said Rip.

"That's probably true," said Caitlin, clearly still wondering if there was a way around that. Julian really didn't think Rip was teacher material, and suspected that the time traveller had already worked that out.

"I hadn't realised quite how useless my skills as a Time Master would be in the real world," said Rip, despondently.

"Investigative skills!" suggested Cisco, with enthusiasm. "You don't just turn up at an aberration and fix it, I assume. There must be some detective work to find out what's going on."

"Yes, I suppose so," said Rip. "I tracked Vandal Savage through multiple time periods and places before we caught up to him. But I'm not convinced that's exactly a transferrable skill."

Julian put a hand on his chin. "Maybe we should ask Detective West if he'd take you on a ride along. You could be ideally suited to joining the CCPD as a detective, although I expect you'd have to attend the police academy."

"You're forgetting that I don't exist on paper. I'd need fake ID and probably other documents to even apply, and I'm not sure that we want the police department scrutinising me. Especially as I probably count as an illegal alien of some sort."

"I can make you ID," said Cisco. "And we have a friend who can hack the computer databases so you appear in the right places."

"Thank you, I think I'm going to need that, whatever I end up doing," said Rip.

"Private Investigator, then," suggested Barry, "less scrutiny and you'd still get to use your investigatory skills."

"But you spend your time following the wives of jealous husbands to see if they're cheating on them, or vice versa, and digging up dirt on business rivals," Julian pointed out.

Cisco tapped on the keyboard. "And you still need to do a course, take an exam to get a licence and be fingerprinted by CCPD."

"Maybe not that then," said Rip with a sigh. "The last thing I need is my fingerprints being officially on file, and I don't really like the sound of following people around just to take pictures of them being unfaithful to their spouses."

"Okay, so perhaps not something involving investigating people," said Caitlin.

"You could just work here with us," said Cisco.

"I'm happy to help out, but given that it's become quite obvious that I don't have much in the way of skills to offer, I'm not sure how much use I'd be to you. You already have a number of competent scientists, investigators and two speedsters, you don't need me spoiling your dynamic and getting in the way," said Rip.

"You wouldn't be in the way," said Barry.

"Yeah, and it's not like HR's a genius and he's still here," said Cisco.

"Ah, but he is good at inspiring the rest of you," said Rip. "If you ever need to plan a raid on a Time Pirate outpost then I'd be happy to give you tips but I doubt you come across those often in Central City 2017."

"Not much," admitted Barry. "But I bet you're good at tactics in general. Anyone who can beat me at chess in four moves has to be good at planning. Maybe you should just see how you fit before you dismiss it."

Rip shrugged. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt, but I'll still need a day job and somewhere to live."

"Well, we can keep thinking about what would be the right day job. We don't have to rush this. Finding you an apartment should be easy enough," said Caitlin. "What sort of budget are we looking at?"

Rip's forehead furrowed. "I don't know. I suppose I'd best go to the Central City bank and see what kind of balance I currently have."

"Or I could just access your account online," said Cisco. "What are the details?"

Rip looked a little surprised by this for a second. "Of course, this is 2017." He fished in one of the pockets of the long coat he was inexplicably wearing inside, and brought out a leather-bound notebook. He flicked through and came to the page he wanted. He handed Cisco the book. "The one that's under the name Jonathan Ripley."

Cisco took the book and headed around to his computer. "Okay, customer accounts."

He typed for a bit. "I hate bank websites. They always have to do things the hardest way possible. But I've got it." His eyes went wide. "Well, you're definitely going to have enough for rent."

Everyone moved around the desk to look at the balance that was displayed on screen.

"Oh my," said Caitlin. "That's a lot of money, Rip."

"Hmm, I'd hoped for more," said Rip. "I suppose the interest rate has been low of late."

"You could _buy_ an apartment with that," said Barry.

"Several apartments," pointed out Julian. "Although I suppose you will need money to live off until you start earning."

"Indeed," said Rip. "So, I should probably confine my search to somewhere modest. I don't need anywhere large, just a bed to sleep in at night."

"Okay, we can do an online search in a suitable price range for one and two bedroom apartments and studios," said Cisco. "Then one of us can take you round the realtors tomorrow when we've got a list of what to look at. You're going to want to live somewhere reasonably close to the lab…" Cisco typed in his search criteria. "And there's no need for you to live in a bad area, or get ripped off in the posh districts. Somewhere in between."

Caitlin nodded at the decisions Cisco was making. Rip just looked somewhat bewildered.

"I've never had my own apartment before," said Rip. "I went straight from the Refuge to the Academy and then I was given the Waverider. Miranda sorted out the house in London. This is going to be… new."

Julian patted Rip on the shoulder. "Don't worry, mate, we'll help you sort it all out, but for now, maybe we could all use some coffee."

Rip nodded. "Good idea. At least I can make myself useful by getting the coffee."

"Actually, I was offering to do it," said Julian.

Rip shook his head. "Please, allow me. I'm familiar with how to use the coffee machine and who has what. Consider it part payment for your help in finding my accommodation."

Rip disappeared towards the kitchen, long coat swishing behind him.

"That guy has no idea what real life is like, does he?" said Cisco with a sigh, once he'd checked that Rip was out of earshot. "I'm not sure we can even let him live alone with a clear conscience."

"He'll be fine," said Caitlin. "He just needs a period of adjustment. I think he was finding it all a little overwhelming."

"It reminds me of when I first moved to the States," said Julian, thoughtfully. "You lot may speak the same language, albeit somewhat mangled, but this isn't the UK. There are a hundred and one ways this country felt totally alien when I came here. I remember just trying to work out the money to buy a cup of coffee, and then there's how you buy a subway ticket, order at a restaurant, what tip to leave… it's a nightmare of new ways of doing everything. And the culture shock must be twice as great if you've never really spent time in any one period or country. You don't even have your own normal experiences to draw upon."

"I hadn't thought about that," said Barry. "I suppose he must have spent time with his family wherever they settled in the future."

"Which won't help much with Central City in 2017," said Julian. "I mean why did he pick this time? He's got no ties to here or anywhere. There must be better places than here to settle down when you have all of time and space at your fingertips."

Caitlin smirked. "You're adorably clueless at times."

Julian frowned. "I am?"

"Julian, there's only one reason he's here," said Barry. "And that's because we're the next best thing to a home that he has."

Julian's eyes widened as he metaphorically kicked himself. "Ah. Of course. But he only spent two weeks here. There really isn't anywhere else he'd rather go?"

Caitlin shrugged. "I've never got the impression that he has a lot of friends, and obviously he doesn't have a family anymore. I'd guess no one else ever took the time to get to know him like we did. And he and the Legends are clearly having a few issues at the moment after the brainwashing…"

"Or there's something else going on," said Cisco, eyes still glued to the screen.

"Like what?" asked Barry.

Cisco raised his eyebrows. "I don't know. It just seems strange that they were all so desperate to get him back and now here he is, retired from the team. Sara was practically going to rip us all limb from limb for letting him get shot, and I really thought Mick might start breaking stuff. Makes you wonder."

Caitlin frowned now. "He's definitely not giving us the whole truth about why he left them, but without contacting them and asking, it's hard to know what really happened in the last three weeks to make him decide that it wasn't right for him anymore."

"Perhaps he isn't doing quite as well as we thought," said Barry. "He wanted to run away before."

"But he didn't," said Caitlin. "And we know that he's still not properly recovered, because that would be impossible."

Julian shrugged. "We can't make him tell us what's bothering him. All we can really do is offer him a bed for a few nights and our friendship."

Caitlin nodded. "He'll tell us if he wants to, when he's ready."

"Hey," said Cisco, "look at this one. Rip had quite the collection of memorabilia on the Waverider. Do you think "history expert" extends to…"

Barry nodded and Caitlin apparently agreed.

"Yes," said Caitlin, thoughtfully. "I think it might."

Julian smiled. "Nicely done, Cisco, I think that could be exactly what our time travelling friend needs."


	2. Timeless Antiques

Peace and Space

Chapter 2

AN: This ended up being a much longer chapter than planned, so Sara's return was moved to the next chapter.

* * *

Caitlin got the impression that Rip's heart wasn't really in their apartment search. The two of them had headed out with a long list of places to look at, and, so far, Rip hadn't dismissed any of them, even the one that had been next door to the Central City El line and would have trains running past the windows day and night. Rip had described it as "quirky", whereas Caitlin had called it "impossibly noisy", which she considered to be a much more accurate description.

She was pretty sure that Rip was still suffering from depression, and whilst he was trying to be interested, he was clearly finding it hard. All he really wanted was somewhere he could have a bed, and almost anywhere would do for that. She was pretty sure that his concentration was wavering after a long afternoon of looking at accommodation and listening to realtors extol the virtues of the most mundane places.

"Okay, final destination," said Caitlin, as they got out of the car at the last address on her list. "I've been saving this one."

"This isn't really a residential district, Caitlin. What are we doing here?" asked Rip, glancing around at the shops and restaurants on the street that he was stood on.

"Look at the sign," said Caitlin, pointing across the street.

"It says "for sale"," read Rip. "But clearly it's a shop not an apartment."

"Yes, it's a shop. Specifically, it's an antiques shop, and it comes with an apartment on the floor above the shop," said Caitlin. "I spoke to the owner and he's willing to part with it for a very reasonable price as long as the new owner agrees to take on the current stock and push the sale through quickly."

"You want me to buy an antiques shop?" asked Rip, incredulously.

"You said that you needed something to do and to earn some money," said Caitlin. "Tell me that you're not even the slightest bit interested and we'll move on, but let's at least go and take a look before you decide."

Rip nodded. "Well, I suppose it can't hurt to look."

The two of them crossed the road and entered the shop. It had clearly seen better days and there was a strong smell of wood polish. Everything was arranged somewhat haphazardly with items of furniture shoved in corners and stacked upon each other. A collection of clocks and watches sat on one table, whilst a group of bronze statues took up another. An aging sign declared that rare books could be found in the back room.

Caitlin knew this was the right choice for Rip immediately, because his body language changed as soon as he saw the contents of the shop. He approached one of the chairs.

"I haven't seen one of these for quite a while. Walnut. 19th Century. Beautiful workmanship. Look at that inlay."

Caitlin raised an eyebrow. She hadn't really noticed the chair. It looked very much like the other chairs in the room, made of wood with an upholstered seat.

"And one of a pair!" said Rip, as he turned to the chair next to it, with the most excitement that she'd seen all day. A statue on one of the desks caught his eye. "Is that 4th Century Chinese? No, maybe 5th? Goodness, it's exquisite. Caitlin, come and look at this metal work!"

A chuckle from the back of the room alerted them that someone else was present. The man was older, with pale skin, greying hair and beard. He regarded them with sharp, dark blue eyes and the start of a smile.

"You seem to know your stuff anyway," said the man. "I'm guessing you must be the one who's interested in buying my place."

Rip straightened up. "Er, yes, Jonathan Ripley, at your service." He was using the same alias as the name on the bank account because it made life much easier. It also meant his STAR Lab friends could still call him Rip without it seeming strange. "This is my friend, Doctor Caitlin Snow. She's been helping me with the vagaries of buying property in Central City"

"Kingston Markham," replied the man. "You're British?"

"Originally. I've been travelling quite a lot, but I'm trying to put down some roots again." Rip's eye had been caught by the clocks on the table, and he wandered over to them, looking at them with a fascinated eye. "Is that an Ellicott?"

"Yes, circa 1800. Lovely piece," replied Kingston, nodding. He came over to the table and opened the back. "Look at that mechanism. Doesn't it just make your heart sing?"

"Yes, it does rather," replied Rip. "Quite beautiful."

Kingston nodded. "Well, you'd best have the tour then."

Rip nodded, gesturing with a hand. "Please, lead the way."

Caitlin watched with some amusement as Kingston showed Rip around the shop, stopping to admire the antiques as they went. Then they went upstairs and explored the small but cosy apartment above the shop. It had a small sitting room, kitchen, bathroom and two bedrooms, one of which Kingston had been using as an office.

"It's perfect," said Rip, with a happy sigh, as they walked away. "Are you sure I can afford it?"

Caitlin nodded. "Yes, and have enough left over to get yourself settled, refurbish the apartment if you want to and probably live for six months after that without any income from the shop."

"Ah, yes, that is the main flaw in an otherwise stunning plan. I have no experience of running an antiques shop," said Rip.

"I had a word with Kingston while you were looking through the rare books for the second time," said Caitlin. "I explained that you're starting a new career. I may have implied that you're ex-British secret service."

Rip rolled his eyes. "Caitlin!"

"He asked and I couldn't tell him the truth!" replied Caitlin. "So, I just said you'd done work of a confidential nature, and he said something about how you have a military look to you, and I just kind of agreed."

Rip gave a long-suffering shake of his head. "Well, I suppose it isn't that far off and at least it should mean he doesn't ask too many more questions."

"Anyway, my point was that he agreed to stay on and help in the shop for a bit so that you can learn the ropes," said Caitlin.

Rip's eyebrows raised slightly as he gave an approving nod. "That does sound quite reasonable. I suppose it does turn a profit?"

"Yes, I checked the books before we came to look round. You're not going to get rich, but it's enough for a decent living and given that you won't be paying rent, you should do fine," replied Caitlin.

"I apologise for all my earlier scepticism. This was exactly what I needed. Something that I can at least use my acquired skills to do, whilst being somewhere that I can gather my thoughts, get over my lingering PTSD, and call home. I'll put the offer in when we get back."

Caitlin smiled. "You didn't notice the name, did you?" She turned Rip around to look back at the shop front.

"Huh," was all Rip managed, as a smile spread across his face.

The antique shop was called "Timeless Antiques".

"I thought it was kind of appropriate for a former Time Master," smiled Caitlin.

Rip nodded and the smile disappeared from his face.

"I'm really doing this, aren't I?" He looked terrified. "I'm really giving up being a time traveller."

"Hey, not if you don't want to," said Caitlin, putting a hand on his upper arm. "You've still got the jump-ship if you want to go travelling."

Rip shook his head. "It isn't that I can't, it's that I have no reason to. The Time Masters are gone and I was a member of their ranks in one way or another since they plucked me off the streets and dumped me in the Refuge at eight. Then I had the Legends, but you know how things ended there. I used to be one of the guardians of time itself… and now I'm about to buy an antique shop. It's something of an adjustment." He paused. "Sorry, I must sound quite pathetic."

Caitlin put a hand on Rip's arm. "It's not too late to go back to the Legends. I'm pretty sure they'll be happy to have you back any time you want to join them again."

"I wish that were true. No, I have to move forwards," said Rip. He took a deep breath. "I think we should probably head back to the lab and report our success."

Caitlin knew bravado when she saw it, and she was aware that Rip could be his own worst enemy at times. However, now was not the time to call him on it, that could wait.

She put a smile on her face and decided to tackle something else. "Absolutely, and I'm thinking that you'll need a therapist if you're going to be in town permanently. So, we might as well resume out professional relationship. How do Tuesday afternoons sound?"

Rip looked a little surprised. "Er, well, I wasn't really planning on returning to regular therapy… I mean the odd session, of course, but weekly seems…"

Caitlin gave him a stern look. "You know as well as I do that you're not fine. You're still not sleeping properly, you're definitely not eating properly, and you've just left a job that you've basically had since you were eighteen. You lost your family just over a year ago, and you were brainwashed by bad guys less than two months ago. You don't get over those things in a few weeks, and you know that."

Rip examined his feet, before sheepishly looking up at Caitlin.

"Tuesday afternoons it is."

* * *

The paperwork took a while to sort out, but the sale was being put through as quickly as it could possibly be. Whilst he waited, Rip spent his time helping Kingston in the shop, learning everything there was to know about the antiques business and assisting the older man in taking inventory so that Rip had a good record of what was actually in the shop. He was quietly impressed by Kingston's encyclopaedic knowledge of the antiques world, and realised that although he himself did know a lot about antiquities he had very little idea how much anything was worth. He had a lot to learn about valuation, but at least he would have Kingston's help for a bit longer.

Rip had never shied away from hard work and applied himself to picking up as much knowledge as he could. He didn't want to constantly have to look things up or ask Kingston for his help every five minutes. He also began to jot down ideas for refurbishing the shop and the apartment above, looking forwards to putting his own stamp on Timeless Antiques.

Everything could have been said to be going well if it weren't for the fact that his PTSD had reminded him of its existence. As he'd told Caitlin, he still didn't sleep well, and after a relatively good week of mostly sleeping through the night, he then had a thoroughly bad one. He was still sleeping in his old room at STAR Labs, but the difference was that, this time, he wasn't being monitored and everyone apart from HR went home to their own beds at night. He ended up, on his own, sat in the Cortex watching Doctor Who, with a book of antique clock auction catalogues sat on his lap and sipping whiskey from his hipflask, which was rapidly emptying. He had an entire new Doctor to catch up on but he could multitask. If he didn't give his brain room to think about Sara's death at his hands then he couldn't keep reliving it.

Cisco arrived the following morning to find him asleep with his head on the desk. Rip startled awake.

"Hey," said Cisco, as Rip looked around him, bleary eyed. "So, what's this? Four nights in a row?"

Rip sighed. "Yes, sorry. I thought my sleep patterns were improving but they seem to have deteriorated again."

"You should talk to Caitlin," said Cisco.

"Yes, well, she has already made it clear that we're resuming therapy sessions on a weekly basis, and I believe it's today she wants to start, so I will be whether I am enthusiastic or not. It's most likely just the upheaval of leaving the Waverider," said Rip, rather resignedly,

"Yeah, it's a big change," replied Cisco, as he turned on computers and got everything up and running. "But there's a reason you came here, right? You don't have to be alone. Why don't I stay here tonight? It'll be just like old times."

Rip shook his head. "It's enough that you've given me a bed and are helping me get settled with the shop. You've already done more than enough. Besides, I am practiced in existing on very little sleep and managing on my own."

"That doesn't make it a good thing, dude," said Cisco.

"I am aware," said Rip, rolling his aching shoulders to get the kinks out from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position.

"Great, we'll have a Capaldi marathon tonight then," said Cisco, "or have you watched them all?"

Rip shook his head. "I'd only just finished Eleven when I left the Waverider, so I've just got into the first series of Twelve."

Cisco nodded. "Capaldi's run is about as mixed as Smith's, but there are still some good episodes in there."

Rip smiled. "Yes, but personally I'm looking forwards to Thirteen."

Cisco frowned. "What do you know about Thirteen? It's someone good, isn't it? Damnit, time travel is unfair."

"Spoilers, sweetie," replied Rip, with a smirk.

"I've created a monster," said Cisco, with a sigh, but he sounded a little bit proud too.

"We can debate that tonight," replied Rip, actually looking forwards to the company.

Rip picked up his book and hipflask, stretched and headed back to his room for a change of clothes and a shower. He emerged feeling a little better, but still somewhat below par due to his disturbed night. He was due at the shop in a couple of hours for a session with Kingston and the rare book collection. He made his way to the lab's breakroom and brewed himself a cup of tea. He was just about to sit down to drink it, when he heard Caitlin and Julian coming down the corridor, arguing about something.

"All I'm suggesting is that you should have a key…" said Julian.

"I'm dangerous, Julian," replied Caitlin. "If the pendant isn't working…"

"That's really unlikely, and besides, if Killer Frost wanted to kill me, I'm pretty sure a locked door wouldn't stop her," said Julian.

"Then maybe we shouldn't be doing this at all," said Caitlin, crossly. "I'm worried about what would happen to you if I ever become her again."

"Caitlin! That's not going to happen and apart from anything, she's still you and I know you'd never hurt me," said Julian.

"But she isn't me," said Caitlin. "She's some sort of twisted, psychopathic version of me, and she'd like hurting you, or don't you remember what I did to you last time? I put you in the hospital."

"That wasn't you," said Julian.

Rip dropped his mug of tea, which smashed on the hard kitchen floor into sharp shards of porcelain. He hadn't seen it coming. The topic of conversation should have put him on guard, but it hadn't. His breathing had picked up and his pulse had skyrocketed. He was trying to get his breathing under control, but his awareness wasn't in the present really. It was watching Sara standing at his door, saying "It wasn't you, this is you." And then he was looking down at her in medbay, the bullet wound that he'd inflicted upon her, red, and gaping on her stomach. Her neck under his hand, so thin and fragile. He knew exactly how to end her life, and her attempts to fight back were too feeble to stop him. She was too weak to put up any kind of resistance.

"You say her name as if she's supposed to matter to me… She doesn't."

Rip stumbled backwards into the kitchen cabinets and slid to the ground, shaking his head. "She does. She matters. She matters to me. She does." He put his head in his hand, trying to get air into lungs that had inexplicably become unable to function as something constricted around him. He felt the tears in his eyes as he gasped and sobbed. "She matters. She matters to me."

"Rip!" said Caitlin, far away and not really even in the same reality that he was in. "Rip, come on, breathe for me. Don't do this. You're not there, you're here with us. Slow your breathing. Remember the exercises that I taught you."

Rip shook with adrenaline and fear. "She does matter to me," he repeated. "And I killed her."

"No, you didn't," said Julian, equally far away. "She's alive and safe. You need to come back to us, mate. You didn't kill anyone."

Rip shook his head. "I killed her." He pulled his knees up to chest, hearing the pained gasps of air that Sara had struggled for as she'd died. "She matters. She matters to me."

"Rip, I need you to breathe. You're having a flashback. I know it's not good and you can't see how to take yourself out of it, but you're not there, you're in Central City in STAR Labs." That was Caitlin again, but she was so far away. He had his hand around Sara's neck, his other hand holding a gun that he'd just pointed at Jax.

"She does matter," he murmured again.

"Yes, mate, she does, and you didn't kill her," said Julian. He felt hands on his arms. "Rip, you're safe in STAR Labs. And Sara's safe too. Come on, you can do this. You need to breathe more slowly and then you'll feel better."

Her dress had been stained with her blood, and her skin had been horribly pale, clammy with sweat. She wasn't her usual strong self, and Rip could never have taken down the White Canary under normal circumstances. He had been able to take advantage of her injury and she'd died under his hand easily. He pressed down and heard the bones of her neck snap.

"I killed her, but she does matter to me," said Rip, tears streaming down his cheeks unacknowledged. Air came it quick gasps, not enough to still his tortured thoughts. "She does matter. She does matter to me. She does matter to me. She does…" He didn't have enough breath to finish.

He wasn't getting enough oxygen and he was feeling light headed, cold and worn out. Medbay was fading out as other sensations began to assert themselves.

He felt someone put a blanket around his shoulders, and he could smell tea. This wasn't his usual basic breakfast brew. This was something stronger, and didn't belong in the Waverider's medical bay, which had mainly smelt of Sara's blood and antiseptic. But then he realised that he wasn't in the medbay on the Waverider. He raised his head away from his knees and came face to face with a concerned looking Julian.

"Are you back with us, mate?" asked his fellow Englishman. Not everyone from the UK used "mate" as a term of endearment, and as a colloquialism it was beginning to fade from the English language by this era. Rip himself tended to use it infrequently and, when he did, it was usually the exact opposite of a term of endearment, reserved for people he was probably about to punch - "you might want to shut up now, mate" for example. But Julian normally only used it in friendship, often when he was worried about a person.

Rip gave a nod, unable to really consider speaking at this point, and tried to calm his racing heart and slow his rapid breathing.

Julian let out long, relieved breath. "Okay, just focus on where you are. You're in STAR Labs, in the kitchen."

Caitlin knelt down beside Julian with a cup of tea in her hands. "You're going to hate this, but we need to get you grounded, and the best way to do that is to get you to use all your senses. I'll help you hold the mug and then you need to sip the tea slowly."

He took the mug of tea from her with shaking hands, luckily Caitlin had been sensible and only filled it about half full. She kept a hand on it to prevent him from just dropping it. He sipped it, grimacing at the strong taste.

"You put lemon in Earl Grey," he mumbled, accusingly. Under other circumstances, it was a crime that he would have found hard to forgive. Even given the American approach to tea, Caitlin knew better than to put a lemon anywhere near his tea or to leave it to brew for as long as this had been.

Julian gave him a smile. "I think we can declare you on the way to recovery. I still have no idea what you even see in the stuff, with or without lemon."

"How long was I unresponsive?" asked Rip, who found himself shivering and pulling the blanket more closely around himself.

"I'm not sure," said Caitlin, reaching in to take his pulse by wrapping a hand around his left wrist. "We heard the mug break and you were already in mid-flashback when we came in. Probably only a few minutes."

"I'll clean up," said Julian, getting to his feet. "Then we should get Rip off the floor and somewhere more comfortable."

Caitlin clearly agreed. "I'll call Kingston and tell him not to expect you at the shop today."

"I'll be fine in a few minutes," replied Rip, although the sweat and tears drying on his skin made it obvious even to himself that this was delusional thinking, but he could try to push through. Caitlin set him straight though.

"No, you won't. You've got at least a couple of hours of come down and rest before you'll feel like you're back to normal. That was a bad one," said Caitlin, removing her hand from his wrist again.

Julian was nodding. "You're shaking like a leaf. That's the adrenaline, and once it leaves your body, you're going to feel worn out and worse than you do now. Believe me, I know. Drink the tea, it'll help."

Rip gave him an annoyed look. "The tea is foul."

"I think we've covered why that is," sighed Julian.

"Yes, grounding, I am familiar with the drill," replied Rip. "But does it have to be something quite so horrible?" On his previous visit to STAR Labs, Caitlin had taken him through exercises to break himself out of a flashback and ground himself again in reality afterwards. Making use of his five senses was one of the key methods for grounding himself in the present.

"Strong flavours work best," said Caitlin. "And it was what came to hand. How often have you been having flashbacks like that?" She sounded concerned.

Rip shrugged, feeling the texture of the blanket beneath his fingers as another grounding exercise. "There haven't been many. Maybe one as bad as that one, and some other, much more minor incidents," he replied.

The bad one on the Waverider had been just after he'd installed Tolkien in the medbay to heal from his illness. He'd managed to remove himself to the corridor so that he didn't have a meltdown in front of one of the 20th Century's greatest authors, although Tolkien probably would have understood given his own "shell shock". He'd been lucky that no one happened to be in the corridor at the time. There had also been some smaller incidents with items on the Waverider triggering a memory that he'd relatively easily pulled himself away from, but that was it.

"You heard us talking?" asked Julian, as he dumped the broken mug in the bin and finished mopping up the spilt tea. "Was that what triggered this?"

Rip didn't want to make them feel bad, but he nodded. Hiding things from Caitlin usually resulted in a lecture, once they inevitably were admitted later, and he didn't have the energy to produce a reasonable lie at the moment.

"Sorry," said Caitlin, "we'll be more careful in the future."

Rip shook his head now. "Don't be ridiculous. You didn't know I was here, and you've discussed being Killer Frost in front of me before. There doesn't seem to be much rhyme or reason to why one thing trips a memory flashback and something else doesn't. It'll get better, and I expect it to be a central point of discussion in this afternoon's therapy session."

Caitlin gave him a small smile. "I'm glad to hear that you remembered."

"Clearly you were right and I need it," said Rip, sipping the horrible Earl Grey again. It was helping to keep him in the present though, so Caitlin had been right about that too.

Julian had completed the clean-up. "Do you feel up to standing?"

Rip gave a small nod and found the tea being removed from his hands, and then Caitlin and Julian pulling him to his feet. Barry walked in just as Rip dizzily made it to upright.

"Er, hey," said Barry. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine," said Rip, dismissively.

"Now," added Julian.

"So, it wasn't?" asked Barry, with concern.

Rip rolled his eyes and shot Julian an annoyed look. "I had a flashback. Quite a bad one." He looked downwards, not wanting to meet Barry's eyes and feeling somewhat embarrassed.

"Man, I'm sorry," said Barry. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No, I just need a few hours to myself to get my thoughts back in order," said Rip, waving off the concern. "I'll be fine."

He looked up to see a look being exchanged between Barry and Caitlin. He knew both of them had a good idea of what he was going through, they'd already helped him through two weeks of therapy and Barry had never shown him anything but kindness and understanding.

"I really will be fine," said Rip, with a bit more conviction than his initial statement. "I just need a proper cup of tea and to remember where I am."

Caitlin smiled at him. "Well, I guess we can help with both of those."

She tipped away the mug of Earl Grey and began on brewing something more to Rip's taste, while Julian pulled up one of the chairs for Rip to sit in.

"I was looking for you, actually," said Barry. "I brought you your new cell phone."

"Cell phone?" asked Rip. He'd forgotten what a feature of this era they were until Barry pulled the object under discussion out of his pocket and handed it to Rip.

"Yeah, and because you're part of Team Flash now, it comes with a panic button. Press it and I'll be there in a flash," said Barry, with a smirk.

"Barry!" chastised Caitlin, at the pun.

"What? I thought it was funny," said Barry. "Let me show you how it works."

Barry took Rip through the features on his new phone, and Rip found himself comforted by the members of Team Flash as they did mundane things like drink coffee and eat breakfast cereal. It made him think, for just a few seconds, that perhaps he could have what he'd had with the Legends here instead. Then he remembered that things never ended well when he got attached. Look at what he'd done to Sara and Jax, and the other Legends.

He always lost those closest to him, either through his own fault or because someone was trying to get to him through his loved ones, and he needed to keep that in mind. Casual, friendly acquaintances were fine, but real friends weren't something that he could allow himself. That was too dangerous, even now.

* * *

Rip bought a bottle of whiskey the next time he was in town and refilled his hip flask. He hid the bottle amongst the other items that he'd bought. It wasn't that he was embarrassed to have the whiskey, it was more that he didn't think Caitlin would approve. Gideon hadn't indicated any contra indications to drinking with the medication that he was taking, but people who were already depressed probably shouldn't be drinking a known mood depressant. However, the other effects that the whiskey provided were quite pleasant and it seemed to help him at least get to sleep if he had a couple of tots before bed. It didn't help with staying asleep but nothing seemed to help with that.

He returned to STAR Labs for what was probably his final night there, because Jonathan Ripley found himself the proud owner of an antiques shop, and tomorrow was moving day. He was about to abandon his temporary quarters in the isolation room in the Lab and move into the apartment above the shop. He'd already moved the jump-ship so that it was now parked on the roof of his building, he just had to move himself now. Team Flash were planning some kind of farewell get together for him involving movies and ice cream at Joe's house, and he was actually quite looking forwards to it.

He walked into the cortex to find it a hive of activity. Cisco was just coming to the end of some kind of scientific explanation, and twisting in his chair as HR examined the screen, tapping his drumsticks on his lips. Barry was looking rather serious and slightly frustrated. Wally didn't look any happier.

"What's going on?" asked Rip.

"We've got a meta that's making other metas sick," said Julian. "Barry and Wally can't go near him until we work out how he's doing this."

Barry was pacing, whilst stopping to look at the info on the screens every so often. "If he can't touch me or breathe on me then he can't infect me."

"Do you really want to risk that?" asked Caitlin. "All the other metas that he came into contact with lasted less than forty-eight hours when they came down with whatever he's infecting them with, and none of our tests have worked out what it is yet, so I can't even come up with a vaccine, let alone a cure."

"What about a hazmat suit?" asked Rip.

"It wouldn't be able to stand the speed that I run at," said Barry.

"And if it gets torn during a fight then you'd be exposed," said Caitlin.

"Something else to add to the list of things I need to make: a speed-proof hazmat suit," said Cisco, he sounded vaguely guilty that he hadn't thought to make one already.

Rip frowned. "What information have you got on him?"

"His name is Daniel Farrell," said Cisco, "he's acting like a typhoid Mary. He's making other metas sick, but he's fine himself. His victims die from something that looks a lot like haemorrhagic fever, in less than forty-eight hours, and even metas who are just in his general vicinity can be affected. He used to work at the University in the virology department, so I guess when the particle accelerator hit, the power he got was impacted by what he was working on. We need a blood sample to determine how he's doing it, but we don't have a way to get one."

"We don't even have any kind of plan," said Barry. "If we can work out a safe way for me to take him on then that would be great, but we have to stop him from hurting anymore metas, even if I end up getting sick."

"Why can't the police deal with him?" asked Rip. "If you're unable to then surely they're the next line of defence."

"Joe's on the case," said Barry, "but first they have to find him and there are probably some metas on the force. I don't want them putting themselves in danger when I could be the one dealing with him."

"Understandable, but letting Farrell make you ill won't help anyone," said Rip. "Do you have a location? Or any idea why he's doing this?" He leaned on the table as he asked, noticing that something was processing on Cisco's screen.

"We think several of the metas who have died are just collateral damage," said Cisco. "It looks like he's being paid as a hitman to take out specific metahumans. As to location… I don't know. But he must have help of some kind because we have surveillance camera footage of him getting into the back of a van. I'm looking at traffic cams to see if I can track it down."

"I think it's quite clear that you need a non-meta with appropriate experience to deal with him," said Rip. "I would be happy to volunteer my services."

"You can't go on your own," said Caitlin.

She had a point he supposed, but he was quite capable of dealing with a single metahuman on his own.

"I'll go too," said Julian. "I'm not a metahuman, I should be safe from whatever he's been infecting them with."

"I don't really require any help to deal with two men," said Rip, "even when one of them is a metahuman."

"That isn't the point," said Barry. "Caitlin's right. You shouldn't do this on your own."

Rip sighed and decided that the easiest thing to do would be to give in. There was really only one person he could safely take into this situation.

"Julian, you were in the military, I believe," said Rip, turning to the CSI.

"Four years in the British Army," replied Julian. "I was a field medic."

"You understand the basics of taking cover and returning fire?" he asked, assessing whether this was a good idea in any way.

"Of course," said Julian. "But I'm not exactly an expert in combat situations, although I've had firearms training."

Rip nodded. "You don't need to be an expert. I worked alone for years before I picked up the Legends, but I suppose it does make things easier to have someone to watch my back, and I have somewhat grown accustomed to having a second pair of eyes in the field."

Julian straightened up. "Well, I'm sure I could manage that."

"Are you certain?" asked Caitlin, looking rather concerned.

"It has been a little while since I last fired a gun, but I haven't forgotten any of my training," replied Julian, slightly indignantly.

"One moment. I need to get something," said Rip. He stepped out of the Lab and through the side Lab to where his gear was stowed in the isolation room. He retrieved his pistol and stun gun, strapping the first into his leg holster and holding the second. He returned to the cortex.

Rip handed Julian the stunner. "It's a stun gun, point and shoot. It puts the target to sleep for about thirty minutes. It doesn't have any recoil like a firearm, but I'm sure you'll get the hang of it."

Julian nodded. "Okay, so we just knock him out and bring him back here. We can work out how to deal with him once he's safely in the pipeline."

"Yes," replied Rip. "I'm sure it'll be very straight forwards. So, as soon as Mr Ramon has a location for us…"

"Got it!" said Cisco. Everyone crowded around the screen.

"Okay, so it looks like they're in Lawrence Hills," said Julian. "That's not a great neighbourhood, so I suppose that makes sense."

"It's a derelict apartment block. It's scheduled for demolition and redevelopment," said Cisco, typing away at his keyboard.

"Perhaps you could give us a lift?" Rip asked Barry.

Barry gave him a nod. "Ready?"

"Yes, and please remember, stay outside the building, and I'd suggest you ready a hazmat suit so that we can safely transport our prisoner back here without infecting anyone," said Rip.

"I'll go get the van and meet you there," said Cisco. "We'll need something to take him back here in. And you'd better take some coms so you can keep in touch."

Cisco rifled in his desk drawer for a moment and produced two in-ear communication devices. He handed one each to Rip and Julian.

"Tap once to activate them and again if you need to turn them off," said Cisco.

"Thank you. Now, the same advice goes for you too," said Rip, putting the com in his ear, whilst giving both Cisco and Caitlin an earnest look. "You're all to stay well back until I give you the all clear."

"Hey, you don't have to tell me twice, I'm not a big fan of drowning in my own blood," said Cisco, his hands up as he leaned back in his chair.

"Yes, well, on that note, perhaps we should get going," said Julian, looking just a little exasperated.

"Indeed," said Rip. "Barry?"

One moment they were stood in the cortex and the next they were on the streets of Lawrence Hills. The cognitive dissonance of being moved so quickly reminded Rip of the feeling of nausea that a long jump could produce. He put out a hand to steady himself and felt Barry grab hold of him to stop him from falling. He noted that Julian had experience a very similar reaction.

"I'm never going to get used to that," said Julian.

"Well, at least you didn't throw up like Diggle," said Barry.

"Thank you for the lift, Mr Allen," said Rip, regaining his composure and straightening up. "Now, you really need to leave."

Barry didn't look at all happy about that. "Okay, but keep your coms on. If you need help then shout."

"Your confidence in our ability to do this is touching," said Rip, sarcastically.

"Sorry," said Barry, "I'll go now." There was a flash of yellow lightning as Barry disappeared into the distance.

Rip glanced over at Julian. "Shall we?"

"Let's," replied Julian, stun gun clutched in his hand.

They headed towards the abandoned apartment block. It was of the style that much of the older parts of Central City had been built in, red brick with a fire escape that ran up one side. "How do we do this?"

"We go in through the side door, and we take it one room at a time, as quietly as possible. Make sure you stay in cover. We know there are at least two of them, but be ready for more," said Rip. "Keep your eyes out for trip wires and any other nasty surprises. They'd be fools not to have some kind of defences, even if it's just cameras to let them know that we're coming."

"Okay, I think I can manage that," said Julian.

"One other thing," said Rip, his tone as serious as he could make it. "Your safety is my responsibility, if I say to do something then you do it."

Julian raised his eyebrows. "I don't remember agreeing to you being the one in charge," replied the CSI.

"I'd say that over thirteen years of dealing with time pirates and aberrations trumps your four years of military service," said Rip, taking out his gun and checking its settings. "As I said, I am quite capable of taking down two men on my own, you're here to watch my back and in case the unexpected happens."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"If I knew then I wouldn't have described it as "the unexpected", would I?"

Julian sighed. "Very well, Mr Hunter. Please, show me how it's done."

Rip gave him a rather exasperated look. He needed to keep Julian safe, otherwise Caitlin would never forgive him. Rip was fairly certain that he could do this on his own, but he was aware that Team Flash would never have let him go on his own. However, if he hadn't thought that he could keep Julian safe then he wouldn't have allowed him to come.

"Do you know how to clear a room?" asked Rip.

Julian nodded.

"Okay, we enter the building in a similar manner. We both agree an area is clear before we move on," said Rip.

"Understood," said Julian, looking just a little nervous.

Rip tapped his com and saw Julian doing the same. "Can you hear us?"

"Yes, you're coming through loud and clear," said HR, "Francisco is on his way with the van and hazmat suits."

"We're about to go in," said Rip. "Standby."

They reached the side door. Rip tried the handle and found it locked. It took him a few moments to pick the lock and Julian refrained from commenting on his ability to break into buildings. At least they wouldn't have to batter it down. No doubt he'd be questioned about it later by the look on Julian's face.

"On three. One, two, three." Rip threw open the door and the two of them progressed down the corridor.

They entered the first apartment on the right side of the corridor. It was decaying, with a carpet with holes in and the paper falling off the walls. It looked like it hadn't been lived in for quite some time. The two men cleared it, Julian acting very professionally and Rip felt somewhat happier to have him at his back.

They continued on to the next apartment, clearing two more before they hit any kind of trouble. They were approaching the stairs up to the next floor, when Rip saw the glint of a trip wire just a second before Julian stepped on it.

"Julian!" he shouted. All he could do was throw himself at the CSI and hope he was in time to stop him from putting his foot on it. Unfortunately, he wasn't, but because he'd thrown them both to the ground, it did prevent the resulting small explosion from doing much more than dazing them. Rip's ears were ringing and he suspected that Julian's were too as they both picked themselves up from the ground.

He could hear someone shouting over the com in his ear. "We're fine," he spat back, as he helped Julian to his feet. He'd said it, but he cast his eyes over Julian just to check.

Julian was quietly swearing. "Sorry," he said. "That was clumsy of me."

"The wire was well hidden. I could just as easily have missed it. But I think they probably know we're here," said Rip. "We should proceed with caution."

"More caution, you mean," pointed out Julian.

"Indeed," said Rip, noting more silver wires strung across their path. "And given that there are trip wires further down the hall, past the stairs. I think it's a fair bet that we need to go upwards."

Julian sighed with resignation, but nodded. They didn't get any further with their planning, as the sound of gunfire echoed down the hall from the direction of the stairwell. The two men slammed themselves into opposite doorways, taking cover from the bullets. Rip thought he could just about make out the shape of someone on the stairs, but they were flat against the wall, probably not even really looking at what they were firing at. He managed to get a couple of shots off before he had to duck back into the doorway.

He was a good shot, but even he couldn't hit what he couldn't see. However, he could hit the stairs at their attacker's feet. He set his pistol to deliver the maximum amount of energy possible and fired twice in quick succession. He heard the sound of the stairs disintegrating and then a stifled scream. He wound back the setting on his pistol, having no wish to actually kill anyone.

He exchanged a look with Julian, who clearly had worked out for himself what their next move had to be. If Julian could stun their attacker then this would be dealt with. They dashed down the corridor together, with Rip slightly ahead. They found a woman in a dark blue jumpsuit, struggling to get herself extricated from the ruins of the last two steps of the staircase. She'd dropped her gun and Julian stunned her easily.

"One down," said Rip, giving Julian an approving look. They pulled her free of the hole and left her on the floor of the corridor at the bottom of the steps.

"Clearly, she's not Farrell," said Julian. "I would assume he's upstairs somewhere."

"We have a prisoner for pick-up, but you may wish to wait a moment and let us deal with Farrell first," said Rip, for the benefit of those listening in on the coms.

"Okay, we're not quite there yet," said Cisco, and they could hear the sound of traffic in the background. "I'll give you a shout when we're outside."

"Noted. We're heading upstairs," said Rip, negotiating the broken wood of the bottom two steps. "We'll let you know when we've got Farrell secured."

Julian also found his way over the large, charred hole in the steps and managed to make it up to the first landing with no further mishaps. It was their own turn to hug the wall as they climbed up the last flight of stairs. They were met with gunfire just as Rip poked a toe out onto the upper landing. He quickly slammed himself back against the wall. He'd caught sight of an automated gun turret mounted on a tripod before he'd been forced to take cover.

"Gun turret, probably motion activated," said Rip. He looked down at his feet and found a piece of rubble and tossed it across the path of the gun turret. It was riddled with holes rather alarmingly.

"How do we get past it?" asked Julian.

"You throw something, and I very carefully shoot it whilst it's tracking the movement," said Rip.

"Really, that's the best plan you can come up with?" asked Julian.

"Feel free to come up with a better one. I think it should work," said Rip, with a slight shrug.

"It had better," said Julian, searching the floor for something else to throw. "If I bring you back with holes in then Caitlin will kill me."

"Likewise you, Mr Albert," said Rip.

Julian grabbed a flat piece of wood that had probably been part of the stairs. "Ready?"

Rip positioned himself to duck out and shoot at the gun as soon as Julian threw the piece of wood. "Ready," he nodded.

"Go!"

The piece of wood sailed through the air and Rip began shooting. The gun tracked the movement of the thrown object until it landed on the ground, and then it began to turn back, but Rip hit the sensor with his second shot and with his third, he took out one of the legs. The gun clattered to the ground, now unable to turn or track movement. It expended all its bullets into the nearby wall.

"Nice shooting," said Julian.

"I have had considerable practice," said Rip, as they edged down the corridor.

They entered the room to find a man sat in the middle of the room, on a mat on the floor. The room had a bed in one corner, some meagre supplies and a camping stove. He appeared to be crying. He was also holding a gun.

"Stop right there," he said, holding the gun out in front of him.

"Mr Farrell, I presume," said Rip, covering the man with his own weapon.

"Stay away from me," he said. "You're not one of my targets and I don't want to harm you."

"We don't have any powers," said Julian.

The man cast his eyes over first Rip and then Julian. They lingered as he looked at Julian.

"You think that's how my little gift works?" he asked.

"It isn't?" asked Rip, suddenly somewhat alarmed, his mind now considering the fact that both he and Julian could be in more danger than he'd thought.

"Not exactly, but I suppose it would appear that way," said Farrell.

Suddenly someone jumped out at Rip from the shadows behind the door, and he found himself knocked to the floor with the force of their momentum, his gun knocked out of his hand. It looked as if Julian was also being attacked and was engaged in a fist fight with another man. Rip rolled on the floor with his attacker, finally getting in a couple of good punches so that he fell to one side. Rip was able to get to his feet and get a better overview of the situation. His gun had landed just by his feet and he grabbed it and shot at his assailant before he could regroup. It wasn't set to do anything more than stun, but it would still probably hurt, unlike the stunner that Julian had which was entirely painless.

He aimed the gun at Farrell, having had enough of these games, and fired, throwing him backwards. Their target was out cold. The stunner would have been kinder but this worked too. He turned to find Julian lying on the floor coughing, and his attacker nowhere to be seen. In fact, when he looked back to check that his own assailant was still down, he found that he too had disappeared.

"Julian?" he asked, going over to help up his friend. However, Julian didn't appear to be in any state to get up. He was pale, sweating and a red rash was appearing.

"No, no, no!" said Rip, anxiously. "You're not a metahuman."

Julian coughed. "I'm getting the impression that we were wrong about the necessary conditions for transmission."

Rip hit his com. "I need a hazmat suit up here now for Farrell, and another one for Julian. Somehow, he infected him. It seems we were wrong about it just infecting metahumans."

"What?!" came the startled response from Cisco.

"Hang in there," added Caitlin. "We're on our way."

"No, that can't be right," said Barry, who was beside him with the hazmat suit in less than a second. Rip noticed that the speedster was wearing one of his own too, and was definitely moving a little less quickly, probably to avoid tearing it. "Julian, you're going to be fine. You too, Rip. We'll get Farrell back to the lab and then we'll be able to work out how he's doing this."

He handed Rip a hazmat suit so that he could put it on and Rip realised that, yes, he'd been exposed too. He needed to wear the suit to keep the others safe now. Barry rapidly got Julian into his hazmat suit, before turning to Farrell and doing the same to him. A few minutes after that, Cisco and Caitlin appeared and Rip helped load everyone into the van for a very sombre trip back to STAR Labs. Julian was clearly feeling very unwell, coughing quietly, with Caitlin beside him. He'd been laid out on the floor of the van, on a foam mat, with the unconscious Farrell beside him. They left the woman on the stairs for CCPD to pick up.

"What happened?" asked Barry.

"I'm not sure," said Rip. "Farrell seemed to be able to manifest additional assailants. I fought off one and Julian was dealing with the other one. Neither of us were in any real danger. I shot Farrell and turned around to help him, but both of the attackers had disappeared. They must have been part of his metahuman abilities."

"The CCTV footage didn't capture anything like that," said Cisco, as he drove them through the traffic of Central City.

"The one who attacked me," said Julian, weakly. "His touch burned me."

Rip frowned. "Mine didn't do that. We're sure that he's only ever attacked metahumans in the past?"

Barry nodded, looking worriedly at Julian.

Barry and HR got Farrell into the pipeline and Julian and Rip into the isolation room. Julian was rapidly worsening, so Barry used his speed to set up the temporary airlock, a clear plastic tent that allowed positive pressurisation of the inner area and would prevent anything inside the room getting out. Rip got Julian onto the bed, while Caitlin put on her hazmat suit and the two of them rapidly stripped Julian of his own hazmat suit and clothes, leaving him in only his underwear. Rip broke off briefly to remove his suit which was just getting in the way now; having already been exposed, further exposure wouldn't matter.

He did his best to help and not get in the way, acting as Caitlin's assistant as she got Julian settled under sheets and blankets. They hooked up an IV and Caitlin started Julian on a wide spectrum antiviral hoping it would help. Cisco, also suited up, dragged a portable cot into the room, since they now had two patients in isolation and Rip would need somewhere to sleep whilst he was in quarantine.

Caitlin examined Julian's skin, noting the red rash that was spreading across it but seemed to be worse in a hand print shaped area on his arm.

"The one who attacked you, did he touch you here?" asked Caitlin, her voice muffled by her suit.

Julian nodded, tiredly, clearly uncomfortably sore. "I feel terrible. This is like the worst 'flu symptoms combined with a bad hangover."

"Painkillers coming right up," said Caitlin, injecting something into the IV port.

"Thank you," replied Julian, with not a little relief.

Then Caitlin began sticking the monitor pads to Julian's chest so that she could keep an eye on his vitals. Rip marvelled briefly at how well she was keeping herself together, but then reminded himself that there was a reason that everyone here respected Caitlin. He'd never witnessed her be anything other than totally professional in all his time here.

"Rip, you should be in bed too. I need to take blood and start you on antivirals."

"I'm fine," said Rip. "I can help you."

"We don't know how whatever this is infects people, so until we do, we're treating you as if you have it. The antivirals probably aren't going to make you feel great so you're better off in bed," said Caitlin. "And, if you start to feel faint, you'll be better off lying down rather than falling over." She was in the process of drawing blood from Julian, who was looking very miserable.

"This thing is quick," said Julian, with a groan. "I can see why no one lasted more than 48 hours now."

"Don't talk like that," said Caitlin. "Barry's drawing blood from Farrell right now and we'll analyse it and find you a cure. Everything's going to be fine."

Rip wondered who she was trying to convince with that pronouncement, because he was pretty certain that none of them believed it. He sat down on the bed and removed his coat and jacket.

"When will we know if I have it too?" he asked. He wanted to ask a lot of other questions about how Julian was doing, but couldn't in front of him, because he doubted that the answers would be good. He didn't need to make it any more obvious to Julian just how dire this situation was.

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Caitlin, labelling the samples from Julian.

She got out new needles and vials and approached Rip, ready to take his blood samples. He sighed and presented his arm. She was clearly practiced at this and Rip barely felt the needle as she inserted it into the vein and took three vials of blood. He noted that she'd double gloved, taking the extra precautions recommended for dealing with infections agents, which was only sensible given the circumstances.

"You're going to need an IV too," said Caitlin. "There's a set of scrubs in the cupboard. Put them on and get comfortable. I'm going to start processing these samples and then I'll be back to start your IV."

Rip nodded and went to do as asked. If anyone could get him and Julian through this safely then it would be Caitlin. He had faith in her abilities and was sure that she'd do her best for them. She returned a few moments later with the equipment to start an IV for Rip. He got into bed and tried not to feel like an utter bastard for being the one who wasn't looking like death at the moment. He was attempting the impossible though. Julian had his eyes closed, and in the areas where his skin wasn't covered in the red rash, it was pale and unhealthy looking.

Caitlin saw him watching Julian, as she readied the IV line. "Hey, this wasn't your fault."

"Then whose fault was it?" asked Rip, crossly. "I have more experience, I've taken down plenty of metahumans in my time. This should have been simple and I was supposed to keep him safe."

"No plan ever survives contact with the enemy," mumbled Julian. Rip had thought he was asleep.

"That doesn't mean it should end up with people being hurt though," Rip pointed out, with a glance in Julian's direction.

"Sharp scratch," said Caitlin, as she inserted the IV. Rip felt the needle going in this time and winced.

Julian pulled his eyes open. They were rimmed with red. "You couldn't know we were wrong about him only affecting metahumans."

"Something's still not right. Surely we should have both gone down together," said Rip.

"Every human responds differently to infection. You could have a delayed reaction or a natural immunity," said Caitlin.

"What are you giving us?" asked Rip, looking at the needle being taped in place.

"Ribavirin," said Caitlin. "It's an antiviral recommended for haemorrhagic fever. It has a few side effects though, so if you start to feel ill, you let me know immediately."

"Oh good, something to look forwards to," said Rip, sarcastically.

Julian huffed with amusement, and it turned into a wheezing cough. The wheezing became a struggle to breathe and suddenly, Caitlin was looking concerned.

"Julian?" she asked, worriedly, going to his bedside. Julian coughed again, and Rip saw blood on his lips.

"Urgh," he moaned, as if it was more annoying than anything.

"I think we need to put you on oxygen," said Caitlin, examining the readouts on the monitors behind Julian.

She began readying the equipment and Rip watched as she ran an oxygen cannula under Julian's nose. Julian reached out a hand to take Caitlin's as she finished. He was breathing a bit easier now. Caitlin took his hand in her gloved one and held it, giving him a reassuring smile.

"I think I've ruined Rip's leaving party," said Julian, his voice rough from the coughing.

"Oh, I think we both managed that," said Rip.

"Farrell is the one to blame," said Caitlin. "Now, both of you need to rest while I go and analyse your blood samples. Behave while I'm gone."

"Of course, Doctor Snow," said Rip, already aware that she knew he wasn't the easiest of patients.

Caitlin left them to their isolation room.

"Got any good stories about killer viruses that you want to share?" asked Julian, looking at Rip.

"None which would be at all appropriate given our situation. Although I believe Sara and the team dealt with an outbreak of zombies whilst I was Missing in Action," said Rip.

"Zombies?" asked Julian. "They actually exist?"

"Well, not really, but there is a virus which basically makes you very sick but allows you to continue to shamble around and infect people before you die," said Rip. "Are you sure this is what you want to talk about?"

Julian coughed again. "I was hoping for an entertaining anecdote."

"I'm sorry, I'm rather short on those," said Rip. "Perhaps we should try a different topic? Out of the most recent run, who's your favourite Doctor?"

Julian actually smiled at that. "Ah, now there's something we can really get our teeth into."

"Unless we agree…"

"Capaldi."

"Smith."

"See, I knew we wouldn't," replied Julian.

Rip smirked. "Go on then, elucidate me on the reasons for your completely incorrect choice."

A muted argument followed, that Rip had absolutely no doubt would have been more vociferous if either of them had felt well, but Julian was tiring and Rip was beginning to feel the effects of the antiviral. Rip had every intention of picking it up again when they were both out of quarantine, because he wasn't willing to believe that this was how it was going to end for the two of them.

Julian fell asleep and Rip realised that he wasn't far behind him. The antiviral was making him tired and he was definitely feeling some of the side effects. His muscles and joints ached in particular, so, aware that someone would be monitoring the room, he looked up towards the camera.

"I wouldn't say no to some painkillers, assuming I'm allowed?"

"I'll be right there," said Caitlin's voice over the speakers. Julian barely stirred at the noise.

When Caitlin arrived, she looked quite sombre, but she went straight to Rip's IV and inserted a needle into the port, delivering some very welcome pain relief.

"Apart from the obvious, what's wrong?" asked Rip, possibly now even more sleepy due to the extra medication in his bloodstream.

"We think we've worked out why Julian was infected," said Caitlin. "He's actually a latent metahuman. He just doesn't have any powers because he wasn't in Central City when the particle accelerator exploded. It makes sense really, he was Alchemy and there has to be some reason that he was chosen by Savitar. We're testing your blood to see if you have the same markers, but so far you look clear which probably means you don't need the IV or to be in quarantine, but better safe than sorry."

"I'm in full agreement with you there. The last thing I want to do is infect you or the others, and a small amount of discomfort is a price I'm entirely willing to pay for your safety," replied Rip. "Have you got anywhere with finding a cure for Julian?"

Caitlin shook her head inside her hazmat suit. "I've had all the research from the previous cases sent over, but we're short on time and even Barry can't make viral cultures grow faster. My main hope is that you're actually also a latent metahuman but have immunity. Then we could potentially give Julian some of your antibodies."

Rip frowned, and yawned. "I realise this will sound thoroughly reckless, but maybe you should think about infecting Barry. Potentially he'd burn through the infection in a few minutes, and then his body will have created the antibodies for you. Although that assumes his speeded-up metabolism can also cope with the damage to his cells."

"That's not just reckless, it's unethical," said Caitlin. "And I'd already thought of it. The problem is we've got no guarantee that it would work. This virus is so potent that Barry might still die before his body can marshal its defences. The whole point of you and Julian taking down Farrell was so that Barry didn't have to get risk getting sick."

"Yes, but that was before Julian was infected," said Rip, looking at his roommate. "You have to agree that Barry stands a better chance of beating this than someone without powers…"

"I'll do it," came a voice over the speakers. Apparently, Barry had been listening in.

"You will not," said Caitlin. "It could just kill you super quickly."

A flash of yellow light signalled Barry's arrival outside the isolation room. He wasn't wearing a hazmat suit and all he'd have to do at this point was enter the room.

"Barry, don't you dare!" said Caitlin, "at least wait until we've got Rip's test results back." She had moved to the glass wall and was looking out at Barry, defiantly.

Barry looked at the occupants of the room through the glass. "Caitlin…"

"I don't want to hear it. If another person that I care about ends up in here today then I'm not sure that I can keep it together. If we infect you, it'll be as a last resort and under controlled conditions, not by you running in here like an idiot."

Barry let out a resigned sigh, his head dropping down for a moment. "Okay, but if Rip's results don't show any immunity, then I think we have to try it."

One of the monitors above Julian's bed beeped urgently, and Caitlin turned around.

"What's wrong?" asked Rip.

"His temperature's up again. This is getting dangerously high," said Caitlin. "I'll have to start him on antipyretics. This isn't a good sign. It suggests the antiviral isn't working." She looked over at Barry. "I need you to get the vial of naproxen from the drugs cabinet. Put it in the airlock. Do not come in."

Barry gave a single nod, vanished and returned a second later. He put the small vial on the floor of the airlock and then closed it back up again, after stepping back out. Caitlin took the vial and administered the correct dosage to Julian, who hadn't showed any signs of waking up and was continuing to cough quietly in his sleep. His skin had developed a slight sheen of sweat and he was moving restlessly. Probably sleeping was the best thing he could do at the moment.

Cisco's voice came over the speakers. "Rip's test results are back."

"I'll be right there," said Caitlin.

"I think it's only fair that I know my own test results," said Rip.

There was the sound of a sigh from Cisco.

"Go ahead, Cisco," said Caitlin. "Rip's right."

"Now that's two words that I don't hear very often," mumbled Rip.

"Okay. Rip's results show he's not infected with the virus, but there's no evidence of antibodies. He's not showing any of the genetic markers to be a latent metahuman either."

"Somewhat as expected," said Rip, rather downheartedly. It may be as expected but it didn't help Julian.

"But it means that you have to stay on the antivirals," said Caitlin. "At least until we can be absolutely certain you're not going to contract it."

"Fantastic," said Rip, meaning the exact opposite.

"That's it, I'm coming in," said Barry.

"Wait!" said Caitlin. "You'll need a cot and an IV. This is going to sap your strength and probably dehydrate you."

"Okay, wait a moment," said Barry. In seconds, he'd collected the required supplies and was standing in the airlock. "Room for one more?"

"I guess there'll have to be," replied Caitlin. She opened the airlock from inside and helped Barry with the fold out cot. Rip would have gone to help too, but quite frankly he felt terrible and didn't trust his legs to hold him upright.

Rip watched as Caitlin got Barry laid down, started the IV and then Barry gasped and began coughing. It seemed very much as if he was struggling with someone, and Rip could almost see a shadowy figure pushing down on the speedster before it disappeared.

"Barry?" asked Caitlin, as she hooked him up to a set of monitors.

"That was fast," croaked Barry. He groaned. "Did you see that? Something or someone attacked me."

Caitlin was shaking her head.

"I saw it," said Rip. "It was the same thing that attacked Julian and I. I'm beginning to think that this isn't really Farrell at all. He's just the carrier for something worse."

"That's the weirdest disease vector that I've ever heard of," said Barry, screwing his eyes closed for a couple of seconds and tensing his muscles. "And this _hurts_."

"I'm sorry, Barry, but you know there are no painkillers that I can give you," said Caitlin.

"Bollocks, this was a terrible idea," said Rip, cursing his own idiocy. "I didn't think it through."

"Hey, if you hadn't suggested it then I would have," said Barry. "It was… the logical… next step." The pain was making it hard for Barry to talk as his gritted his teeth against the considerable pain that he was in.

Barry's skin was already flushed red with the same rash that Julian was displaying, and he had begun to bleed from his nose. Caitlin offered him a tissue, and he pressed it to his nostrils, gasping as he did so.

"I hope you've got Julian on the good stuff," said Barry. "This is not fun."

Cisco came running into the room and pressed his hands to the glass. "Are you utterly stupid?"

"I think it's working," said Barry, between clearly agonised breaths, and about five seconds later his eyes rolled backwards in his head as he passed out.

"I can't believe you let him do this!" said Cisco.

"He didn't really give me a choice," replied Caitlin.

Cisco let out an exasperated groan. "I'm sorry! Okay? I'm just worried."

"I know, but getting angry won't help Julian or Barry." Caitlin looked back at Rip. "Get some sleep, Rip. There's nothing you can do right now and you need to rest."

Rip sighed, but nodded. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open despite the situation and general agitation in the room. He did as Caitlin asked and slept.


	3. Whiskey and Regret

Peace and Space

Chapter 3

AN: In which Caitlin saves the day, Rip feels terrible about everything and the Legends finally come back to town.

* * *

Caitlin didn't sleep. She didn't have the time or the inclination, despite her tiredness. Barry did seem to be burning through the virus and was probably already on the road to recovery, despite the fact that he was still unconscious. His temperature was going down and the rash was fading. Meanwhile, Rip was suffering from some miserable, but luckily not life threatening, side effects of the antiviral that he was on. She was considering taking him off it, but was still erring on the side of caution, and that it was better to be safe and use it as a prophylaxis for a while longer. Rip was tolerating the discomfort reasonably well with the help of some painkillers, and was currently sleeping somewhat restlessly.

Julian was the main worry. His temperature had stabilised but it was still high and whilst his body needed the fever to help fight the disease, if it went too high then it would result in damage to his brain. She was sat at his bedside at the moment, holding his hand, as if that would help anything. He wasn't even aware of her presence, so this was more for her than for him she admitted. She was hardly keeping it together, but she had three people relying on her and she couldn't break now. Later, when everyone was safe, then she'd let herself collapse, but not now.

She was just giving Barry a couple more minutes before she took a blood sample, in the hopes that his body had been hard at work creating antibodies for this virus. She squeezed Julian's hand one last time, wishing it wasn't through two layers of plastic and moved across the room to Barry. She drew the required vials of blood, without Barry even twitching. The speedster was probably unconscious from sheer exhaustion now and was already on his fifth bag of glucose solution. She filled the last of the vials that she needed and took them through the airlock, out of the isolation room and into the lab.

"Did you get it?" asked Cisco.

Caitlin nodded, heading for the microscope, whilst removing the hood of her suit.

Joe, Wally and Iris, who were sat looking tired and worn, now got to their feet. Caitlin had tried to persuade them to go home and rest, but they'd wanted to stay to be near Barry, who was once again putting himself in danger to save the day. They now hovered behind her as she examined Barry's blood. She let out a relieved breath of air.

"He's clear of the virus, and I'm detecting antibodies," said Caitlin.

"Thank god," said Iris, also with a relieved sigh. She smiled at her father and Wally.

Caitlin echoed the sentiment, but although Barry was definitely going to be alright, they still had to work out how to turn the antibodies into a cure. They couldn't just inject them into Julian and hope that they'd magically stop the virus. Despite what certain movies might have people believe, dealing with a viral contagion wasn't that simple. Injecting Barry's antibodies wouldn't stimulate Julian to produce his own. They were going to need to take blood from Barry and treat Julian with the purified antibodies, whilst hoping his own immune system didn't decide to attack the antibodies as foreign.

"You can make Julian a cure now, right?" asked Joe.

"I hope so. I need to start taking blood from Barry," said Caitlin. "We're going to have to process it and get the antibodies into Julian as soon as possible. He's been infected for 14 hours. We don't have much time. The virus has already done a lot of damage."

She grabbed the equipment she needed, replaced her hazmat suit's hood, and returned to the isolation room. The sun was coming up and filtering in through the long, thin, window of the isolation room. Barry was just returning to consciousness as she entered, and looked up at her groggily.

"Hey," he murmured. "So, I lived."

"Yeah," smiled Caitlin, "but I need to take a few pints of your blood and I suspect that's going to make you feel pretty miserable again."

"You want to take my blood?" asked Barry. Then he seemed to work it out. "I generated antibodies. That's good. You're going to use serum therapy?"

"It's about the best hope we have at the moment," said Caitlin. "We don't have the time to find the right antiviral."

Barry nodded. "Take what you need. I'll be fine. I'll be able to replenish it."

"Well, maybe not as fast as you usually would. I know your metabolism is amazing, but your body took a beating with this virus. You're definitely not going to be one hundred percent for a little while." Caitlin started hooking up the tubes and equipment for Barry to donate blood, while they talked.

"Yeah, but I'm doing better than Julian," said Barry. "What about Rip? Is he still okay?"

Caitlin nodded. "He's showing no signs of coming down with it, but the antiviral's made him a bit unwell. As soon as I'm certain that he's in no danger, I'll take him off it."

"I'm sure that'll make him happy," said Barry, with a slight smile in Rip's direction.

"Also, there are a few people waiting to see you in the cortex. You're going to be stuck in here for a bit until we can be sure you aren't contagious anymore. Do you want me to send them over?"

Barry smiled weakly. "Yeah, I'd love that."

Caitlin looked up at the camera. "You heard him. Come on over."

Iris, Joe and Wally came into the lab and grabbed chairs, pulling them up to the glass. The four of them chatted quietly while Caitlin completed her work and went to see how Cisco was coming along with getting the antibodies isolated from the samples. Things progressed rapidly from there, Cisco had the first batch of antibodies ready and they'd process the rest as Barry donated the blood they needed. It was only a short while after that she was able to start Julian on the antibody serum and she crossed her fingers hoping that this would work.

Barry clearly wasn't feeling exactly good, but she was monitoring him closely and his life wasn't in danger. He was grinning and bearing it in typical Barry fashion while the West family kept him company. It was several hours before Caitlin had any indication that the cure was working. However, Julian's temperature finally began to go down.

Rip stirred, his head moving from side to side, and she moved over to his cot, anticipating a violent awakening. They were his speciality, and she wasn't disappointed. His breathing was fast and he jerked himself out of sleep with a cry.

"Hey, it's okay," said Caitlin. "You're in STAR Labs, everything's okay."

He lay back on his pillows, breathing hard but looking relieved.

"Bad dream?" asked Caitlin, checking his vitals, with a hand on his pulse. It was a little fast but nothing unusual, given how he'd awoken. There was no sign of a rash and his temperature was normal.

"Antivirals and pain meds don't make a good recipe for sound rest," replied Rip, with resignation and a glance in Julian's direction. Painkillers often gave patients nightmares and strange dreams, so she had a good idea of what he was talking about.

"How are the aches?" she asked.

"Present and annoying," said Rip. "But I can manage."

"I can top up your pain meds?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Thank you but it's not necessary, and I'd prefer to be unimpaired. How's Julian?"

"I've just started him on the antibody serum, so we'll see how that goes," said Caitlin, looking over at her boyfriend. "His temperature is down a little. I'm hoping that's a good sign."

"Barry burnt through the virus as anticipated?" asked Rip, looking over at the rather pale looking speedster.

"Yes, I'm using him as a blood bank to extract more antibodies from. One more pint should do it," said Caitlin.

Barry let out a sigh. "Good, because I've never been this tired before in my life."

"Sorry," said Caitlin, "but it'll get better once I stop draining you dry, I promise. I couldn't have done this with anyone else, and you may have saved Julian's life."

Barry met Caitlin's eyes. "You know I'll always help if I can."

"I know, but thank you, anyway," said Caitlin.

"So how long do we have to stay in here?" asked Rip. "Those of us that aren't actually infected."

"That depends on how the next set of test results look," said Caitlin. "But you're going to be on the antiviral for another day at least just to be on the safe side, and I'll keep both you and Barry here for twenty-four hours."

Rip groaned. "So much for moving day. I'd better make some calls."

Iris, who'd been chatting to Barry through the glass, spoke. "I can go and sort things out for you. Wally can give me a hand. What do you need done?"

"I'm expecting some furniture deliveries for the apartment," said Rip. "A bed and a sofa. I just need someone to collect the keys, let them in and sign for the delivery."

Iris was nodding. "So, get the keys from the realtor and then sign for a couple of deliveries. Easy. Are you going to be okay, Barry, if we go and do this for Rip?"

"Of course. Go. I'll be fine and there's no point everyone hanging around here," said Barry.

"Thank you," said Rip, "it's very much appreciated. I doubt they'd have been enthusiastic to arrange a new delivery date at such short notice."

"No problem," said Iris. "The superhero thing does kind of get in the way of the normal stuff sometimes. Although having a speedster boyfriend is also kind of useful when it comes to unpacking."

There was a brief discussion of exactly how to get the keys from the realtor and whether Rip was intending to move into the apartment with just a bed and a sofa. This was then followed by Iris and Wally offering to go shopping, and buy some food for when Rip actually made it to his new home. Caitlin agreed that was a good idea and didn't let Rip argue.

About an hour after that Julian pulled open his eyes and dissolved into a series of hacking coughs. Caitlin was at his side in seconds and everyone was suddenly only paying attention to their British CSI.

"Hey," said Caitlin. "How are you feeling?"

Julian blinked up at her. "Terrible," he murmured. "But at least I woke up to you."

Caitlin ignored the look that Barry and Rip exchanged. She didn't care what they thought, Julian was being sweet.

"Still dying?" he asked.

"Nope, I think we've fixed you," smiled Caitlin. "We infected Barry and used the antibodies he generated to make a serum."

She reached over and brushed the slightly damp blond curls away from his forehead.

"Oh good, another one I owe Mr Allen," said Julian, tiredly. His eyelids were closing again. Then he frowned. "What about Rip?"

"He's fine. I'm keeping him in quarantine for now, but he's not showing any signs of being infected," said Caitlin.

Julian nodded. "Good," and then he was asleep again.

Caitlin finally allowed herself to breathe a little more easily as she checked over Julian's vital signs. He really was looking much better. It seemed that the antibodies were working and Julian might even be producing some of his own. He was going to get better and everything was going to be fine.

It was only when she was sat down examining the latest blood samples that she realised she couldn't see the slide. Then she understood. She was crying. She didn't remember the moment that the tears had started and she suddenly felt so worn out. Then Cisco was there and she hadn't heard him approach. He wrapped her in a hug, as she finally allowed herself to break and feel everything that she hadn't been feeling whilst she was needed.

"We could have lost all three of them," said Caitlin.

"But we didn't," replied Cisco. "And that's because of you and what you did. You're the hero in all of this, Caitlin. You're the one who saved them."

Caitlin just sobbed for a moment, and then she wiped her eyes. "Don't you dare tell any of them that I was crying."

"Yeah, like my life would be worth living after doing that," replied Cisco, congenially. "You're just tired. Why don't I do the analysis on the blood work and you go and get some sleep."

Caitlin sighed. She was beyond tired, so maybe she could afford the time to get some rest and she'd come back to all of this fresh in a few hours.

"Okay," she said, at last. "But let me know if there's any change to any of their conditions."

"I'll keep an eye on them," said Cisco, with a glance at the monitor that showed the isolation room. Everyone's vitals were looking reasonable. They were all going to be fine.

* * *

Caitlin let Rip out of quarantine the following day, and it was just as well that he now had an apartment to move into because Julian was currently occupying his former room. His fellow Englishman wouldn't be well enough to be moved for several days, but at least was no longer contagious or critical. By mutual agreement, they'd postponed Rip's leaving STAR Labs party until Julian was feeling better.

Barry, Iris, Wally and Cisco all helped him get the furniture that he'd bought built and sorted out. Then they helped him to go on a shopping trip to buy a fridge, because apparently that was something he needed. He'd sort of forgotten that fabricators didn't exist in this era and food needed to be kept fresh. He'd also forgotten that he'd need bedding for the bed, and a table to sit at to eat, cutlery to eat with, plates to eat on, and about hundred and one other things that were required when owning an apartment.

All in all, the STAR Labs team had been very patient with his utter lack of planning. He'd been so intent on the mechanics of running the shop that he really hadn't put a lot of thought into what he'd need to live in the apartment, which was most unlike him. Normally, he was very good at planning, but perhaps his mind had been elsewhere this time. The entire process was exhausting, especially since he was still recovering from the side effects of the antiviral he'd been on. He was glad to flop down on his brand-new bed at the end of the evening once his helpers had left him.

The apartment felt rather empty. Rip hadn't ever considered himself a gregarious person but he'd sort of grown used to living in the middle of a busy lab over the past few weeks. And before that he'd been on the Waverider with the Legends who were… something of a handful. It was like living in a college dorm most of the time, with people keeping different hours, setting off fire alarms, and having random drinking sessions late at night. Rip had only been able to draw that comparison after spending some time as a film student, and he wasn't sure that it was a good thing at all. On a number of occasions he'd actively wished for things to be as they were before he'd invited these mad people into his life, for it to be just him and Gideon again, but somehow he'd become accustomed to the extra company. Which, of course, meant that being by himself in an apartment was now excruciatingly lonely.

He found the bottle of whiskey he'd bought and poured himself a large glass. He drank it more rapidly than would have been considered polite or sensible, then followed it up with a second. He thought about a third, but decided against it. He needed to be ready to open the shop tomorrow morning. He dug out the radio alarm clock that Cisco had insisted he buy and he went to sleep listening to the muted sounds of some kind of call-in radio talk show, not really paying attention to the station or what was being said. He just needed something else to fill the silence that was threatening to drive him insane.

He supposed that he'd get used to being on his own, but he woke up to the same empty rooms and realised that it was going to take quite a while. He left the radio tuned to a new station, blaring out something random which included pop songs and went to shower, shave and dress. Everything felt like a struggle this morning, even finding breakfast, which was just pouring cereal from a box into a bowl.

He began to make a list of all the other things that he'd probably need to buy and would have to find time to get at some point. He was going to be on his own manning the shop for a few days, which was fine and he felt confident enough in his own abilities that it shouldn't be a problem, but he'd have to employ someone else at some point just so that he could take a day off here and there. Kingston had agreed to continue doing a few hours, but the older man was really looking forwards to his retirement, and Rip didn't want to abuse his offer of help. It wasn't a long-term solution, and he'd already marked those hours as the ones he'd need to take off for his weekly therapy sessions with Caitlin. At least if he was busy then he'd have less chance to feel lonely.

He pulled out his phone and selected the text message option. This was something else that he was getting used to. Team Flash sent text messages to each other all the time, and they now included Rip in them. If he didn't check his phone periodically he missed the messages and would then get worried phone calls checking up on him.

" _Good morning, Caitlin. How's Julian doing today? Would he be able to receive a visitor later today? I thought I'd come by after I close the shop. Rip."_

He typed the text and sent it. It took him quite a while to type due to the fact that he wasn't used to the small touch screen keypad. Perhaps this was why text speak was so popular. He finished up his breakfast and was just doing the dishes when his phone buzzed and pinged at him.

 _"Hi Rip. Come on by. Julian's improving but still got a way to go and would love a visitor."_

Well, at least he'd have a good excuse to head over to STAR Labs later. He expected that Julian would appreciate some company too. He texted back his expected arrival time.

He really hoped that the shop was busy today. He could do with a tiring day to stop his head from thinking too much about recent events. Julian had nearly died and Rip couldn't stop blaming himself for failing so badly at protecting his friend. He should have considered the possibility that the metahuman wasn't just affecting those with powers, but anyone with the genetic markers to become a metahuman. It seemed quite obvious now. They should have tested both himself and Julian before they left the lab and then none of this would have happened.

Rip sighed. It was at moments like this that he missed having Sara around. She'd probably have reminded him that he was being an idiot, and there was no way that he could have known what would happen, whilst the two of them drank scotch in his old study. He missed that easy camaraderie that had developed between them, the double check to their plans and ideas. He'd very rarely questioned her after she became Captain, perhaps because he hadn't needed to. She'd been more forthcoming with her criticism, but then he'd probably deserved it. He hadn't had much command experience before he'd recruited the Legends, and he'd never been entirely happy handing out orders or delegating responsibilities. He really did work better alone.

Then he looked around the achingly empty apartment. Yes, he worked better alone, but then why did he feel so hollow now that he had his wish? He'd have loved to have an answer to that one. He put the single breakfast bowl back into the half-empty cupboard it had come from with a heavy-hearted sigh and headed downstairs to open the shop.

He unlocked the door and changed the sign to "open". Then he set about working out what needed to be done before the end of the day. There were some house clearance sales coming up that he should attend and an interesting auction that looked like it might have some nice clocks to add to the shop's inventory. He spent his day assisting various customers with their needs and managed to sell a couple of chairs and a first edition of Ian Flemming's "You Only Live Twice". He had briefly considered not selling the book and keeping it as an amusing gift for Sara, before reminding himself that he wouldn't be seeing her again.

He actually quite enjoyed helping people with their mundane requirements, assisting them to pick what they needed, and talking with the clear expert on Flemming's work. He'd been trying to decide how exactly to reorder the furniture displays so that he could find everything, when he noticed a tall man outside. He was unusually thin and had exceedingly pale skin. Rip went to the window to get a better look at the individual in question, only to find that he'd vanished.

"Hmm," was all Rip could say to that. Something about that figure had worried him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He shook his head and returned to his work.

* * *

Julian was at least as bad at convalescing as Rip was. Caitlin had managed to keep him in bed for a couple of days, but as soon as he felt well enough, he wanted to be up. Whilst Caitlin had been enthusiastic for him to get out of bed, because it helped with circulation and prevented muscle wastage, her plan had been to move him a few feet to the chair next to the bed. She hadn't really anticipated that he'd want to do laps of the lab and lobby to return home. Rip watched the ensuing arguments with amusement.

"Go back to bed," said Caitlin, as Julian stood hanging on to his IV stand for support. He was dressed in a set of light blue scrubs and still looking unreasonably pale, but at least his colour was returning.

"I'm fine, Caitlin. I can do another lap," replied Julian. "And I really think I'd be okay to go home."

Cisco sidled up to Rip, so that they were both leaning against the cortex's main desk.

"Ten bucks says that she gives in and Julian's home by tea time," said Cisco, quietly enough that neither Caitlin nor Julian would hear.

"If I must take your money," replied Rip, crossing his arms over his chest, "I'd say Mr Albert is going nowhere until at least tomorrow."

Barry came to join them and smiled at the sight of Julian being well enough to argue. "Hey, he's looking much better today."

"Yeah, I just made a friendly wager with Rip that Caitlin's going to let him go home today," said Cisco.

"Highly unlikely," said Rip.

Barry chuckled. "Normally I'd agree with you, Rip, but Julian does this puppy dog eyes thing and I don't think Caitlin's capable of resisting it."

Neither of his friends had noted the slight tremors that were currently running down Julian's legs, but Rip had been observing his fellow Brit carefully. This was, after all, partly his fault.

"Yes, but he does actually have to be able to stand on his own for longer than five minutes…" said Rip, rushing forwards to help catch Julian as his legs gave out from too much walking. Caitlin was already on the case but two pairs of hands would be better than one.

"Bloody hell," complained Julian, as the two of them helped him back to his room.

"We've got you," said Caitlin. "You're not going home until you can at least walk to the parking lot."

"I would advise listening to your doctor," said Rip, "speaking as a former patient."

"As if you ever did as you were told," said Julian. "I distinctly remember Barry having to drag you back here when you decided to leave on your own after being shot."

"Yes, and look where that got me," replied Rip, pointedly. "At least you won't have Sara Lance around to lecture you about putting yourself in danger unnecessarily." Rip did not add that a lecture from Caitlin was potentially worse, but Julian could work that one out for himself.

"I suppose I should be thankful for small mercies," replied Julian. He let out a relieved sigh as they walked the final steps to his bed and he sat down. "When exactly are you going to let me out of here?" he asked Caitlin.

"When you're ready," said Caitlin, crossly, but relented a little at Julian's crestfallen expression. "I'd say in another day or two. Joe's already sorted everything out with the precinct and Barry's covering your cases, so you really don't need to worry."

"I do if Barry's covering my cases," said Julian, lying back against his pillows.

"Oh, so I can save your life but not look after your cases," Barry smiled at Julian, as he joined the conversation.

"Just don't screw them up, Allen," replied Julian, clearly teasing Barry somewhat. The speedster just rolled his eyes.

It was good to see everything getting back to normal, with Julian feeling up to snarking at his fellow CSI. Rip had come to realise that if Julian was being nice to you then he was either very worried about you or about himself.

"Do you need your painkillers topping up? You're due another dose," said Caitlin, as she fluffed his pillows.

"Please," replied Julian, sounding tired. "Walking a few laps of the lab really shouldn't take it out of me like this." Caitlin gave him an affectionate pat on his shoulder and retrieved the pain meds from the lab, returning with a syringe that she inserted into the IV port.

"Given that you nearly died, you're doing pretty well, dude," said Cisco, coming over to join everyone else.

"Thank you for that reminder," said Julian, with a glare at Cisco. Rip looked down at his feet, still feeling like this was his fault.

"And don't you dare look guilty, Hunter," added Julian. "We have been over this and it wasn't your fault that apparently my DNA is carrying the latent metahuman gene."

"Yes, but it was my fault that you were attacked. I should have left you to guard our prisoner on the stairs," said Rip.

"But then you'd have had to face Farrell alone," said Barry, "and we still don't really know how his powers work. He could have attacked you with two of those things."

Rip shrugged. "I suppose so."

"Everything worked out in the end," said Julian. "I'm recovering nicely thanks to Caitlin's expertise and Barry's antibodies, so would you please stop looking like a kicked puppy."

Rip sputtered. "I do not look like a kicked puppy!"

"You kind of do," said Barry, with an amused smile.

"Er, right, I shall… endeavour not to," said Rip, slightly perplexed about how to respond. However, he did get the message that Julian didn't blame him for what had happened, which was at least good to know. "It must be a little strange to find out that you could have become a metahuman if you'd been hit by the particle accelerator."

Julian shrugged. "It's certainly an interesting biological twist, but it's not like it affects me in any real way. I wasn't hit by the particle accelerator, so I was never going to develop powers no matter whether I had the possibility of it or not. And I'm certainly not the superhero type."

"Not all superheroes have powers," said Caitlin, with a glance in Rip's direction and a small smile. Rip gave her a slight incline of his head in self-deprecating acknowledgement of the compliment. He really didn't feel much like a superhero at the moment, not that he'd ever thought of himself that way.

"Well, knowing my luck, I'd have ended up with the power to… I don't know… talk to ducks or something equally ludicrous," said Julian, and yawned. The painkillers had had time to work and Rip knew from experience that they came with the side effect of drowsiness. Julian would be falling asleep in short order.

"Talk to ducks?" asked Cisco. "Why would that be the first random thing that pops into your head?"

"I'm going to blame it on the painkillers," replied Julian, with a resigned sigh.

"Get some rest, Julian," said Barry, a small smirk on his lips.

"That sounds like an idea I can get behind," said Julian, settling down.

"Come on, everyone out," said Caitlin, "let the man get some sleep, and Rip and I have an appointment."

"Oh yes, it's Tuesday," said Julian. "Have fun."

Rip gave him a glare, albeit one that he barely meant. The one thing his sessions with Caitlin weren't was fun, but they were entirely necessary if he wanted to avoid more meltdowns like the one in the kitchen. So far that at least seemed to be working.

Julian closed his eyes and everyone filed out of the room, heading away to their various tasks. Rip followed Caitlin to one of the side labs so that they could have some privacy. Caitlin smiled at him as they sat down, and she shuffled her notes. Her file on him was becoming quite thick, and Rip found that somewhat distressing. He'd really hoped that their sessions wouldn't need to become a long-term thing, but his mental health showed little signs of improving rapidly and he was still struggling to find his way in the world. Slowly small bits were getting easier, but it was clear that he was in for the long haul when it came to working through his issues.

"He's doing much better, you know," she said.

"I saw," said Rip.

"But he was right, you're still feeling guilty," said Caitlin.

"My arrogance has always been one of my worst traits. It was arrogant of me to think that I could simply take down a metahuman and keep Julian safe at the same time," said Rip. "He's not a civilian, but he wasn't trained to deal with the threats that I was. I should have been more careful."

"Julian volunteered to go and none of us blame you for what happened," said Caitlin. "We've all misjudged situations and, to be honest, this was our mistake, not yours."

"You were working with the information available to you," said Rip.

"So were you," pointed out Caitlin.

"But I'm trained to consider every angle, every factor that might come into play. I even knew that there could be such a thing as a latent metahuman, whereas I don't believe you did until you tested Julian's DNA. I'd just compartmentalised my knowledge so thoroughly that I couldn't think to access it when it was required. I was thinking of how I could potentially pollute the time line by giving you information before you're supposed to have it. I should have been thinking of Julian's safety." Rip gestured crossly in the direction of Julian's room.

Caitlin's expression was neural. "You still didn't know that was a factor that needed to be taken into account. You can't keep blaming yourself for every bad thing that happens."

"I can when it's my fault," said Rip, swiftly.

"What about Farrell?" asked Caitlin. "He's the one who did this to Julian."

Rip let out a long sigh. "I know. I _do_ know that. I just can't deny my part in it either. My mother once said that I'd blame myself for the invention of gunpowder if I could, which as it turns out, I justifiably could. She didn't know that when she said it though."

"You invented gunpowder?" asked Caitlin, in disbelief.

"Not exactly, I just made sure it happened as it was supposed to after a couple of alien joyriders thought it would be fun to mess around with Earth's timeline, but that isn't really the point that I'm making. I'm aware that I blame myself for everything, but I can't stop doing it. It's like the years have piled so many terrible experiences on my shoulders, with awful consequences, that I'm incapable of seeing any good in my actions. All I can see are the people I didn't save, and the villains I didn't stop. It's probably just as well that I decided to give up time travel when I did, because I would only have added more bad memories to the pile. In fact, I'm still doing it even now."

"You realise that's a symptom of depression, Rip?" said Caitlin. "It takes all the good things from you and twists it around so that you can only see the bad. You captured a dangerous metahuman, and every person that doesn't die is alive because of you."

"But you can't count the people who won't die. Whereas it's very easy to count the ones who are dead because I was too stupid, too arrogant, too slow, or just not good enough." Rip sighed.

"I guessed that you might say that," said Caitlin. "So, I thought you might want to see this." She rifled through her papers and produced a sheet of names. She handed the list to Rip.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Joe searched the rooms that Farrell was using. He and his girlfriend had been killing people for money for quite some time, and he had already lined up five more victims. Joe found this amongst a pile of research on the same people who are named on the list. You saved the lives of five people. Definitely. There's no doubt that he intended to kill them, and you stopped him. That has to be worth something to you."

Rip looked down at the list with surprise. Five people who he had saved. Five people who he had actually done something good for, without qualification or the need to remind himself that he'd done it for the good of the timeline.

"I have their pictures too, if you'd like to see them," said Caitlin.

Rip thought for a moment, his brain churning with emotions at the idea, but nodded finally. Caitlin handed him five pictures of five ordinary looking people, and Rip almost felt like crying. He restrained himself though, and he forced himself to look at each of the five, remembering that he'd kept them safe.

"Can I keep them?" he asked, after a little time had passed and he felt able to deal with speaking again.

"Of course," said Caitlin. There was another pause as Rip carefully put the pictures in his inside jacket pocket.

"How have you been sleeping?" asked Caitlin. It was a standard question during their sessions.

Rip shrugged, noncommittally. "Okay, but not well. It's not much worse than usual, but it isn't any better either."

Caitlin made a note. Rip really hated it when she made notes, but he supposed she had to record these things. Still, it made him feel like some kind of lab experiment rather than a person. Another irrational feeling that he'd probably have to deal with at some point.

"It's probably just the move to the new apartment," he added.

Caitlin looked up from her note taking. "It might take you a little bit of time to settle into a new routine."

"It's not that…" he started, and then realised that he didn't actually want to admit this.

Caitlin raised an eyebrow expectantly. Damn it, but she knew him far too well now and he'd said something, so now she wanted to know how he'd been going to finish that sentence.

Rip rolled his eyes. "It's too empty. I have to put the radio on every night just to fall asleep. Apparently, I've become used to a certain level of noise." He made an exasperated gesture. "It never used to bother me and I don't understand why it does now."

Caitlin smiled. "Basically, you're lonely. Have you thought about getting a pet?"

Rip looked at Caitlin with utter incredulity. "You cannot possibly be serious. I can't even look after myself at the moment, let along another living creature."

"Okay, what about getting a roommate?"

"Someone to share a room with me? Or is this the American equivalent of flatmate?"

"Yes, I mean you have a spare bedroom and you could rent it out."

Rip shook his head. "Not until I can sleep through the night without waking up shouting her name." And for the second time that day he realised that he'd said more than he meant to. Caitlin tended to have that effect on him. She was just so reassuringly ready to listen.

"Her name? Whose name, Rip?" asked Caitlin, as perceptive as ever.

"Sara's of course. All my dreams are about killing her, as are my flashbacks, when I have them. At least I used to get some variety in my mental self-torture, but ever since I left the Waverider, everything has been about Sara," confessed Rip, finishing more quietly than he'd started. "I simply cannot get the murder of Sara Lance out of my head."

* * *

Sara wasn't at all surprised when they ended up in a situation that only Rip Hunter could solve. Looking back, it had been entirely predictable that he'd been lying when he said that he had nothing more to teach them. The stumbling block was Gideon, because Jax, Ray and Martin just didn't understand her the way that Rip did. So, when their villain of the week, a guy called Morrow, had somehow managed to get hold of a device that disabled their AI and was slowly eating her memory, all Jax could do was shut her down to stop the damage.

It was Ray who said it, as he once again looked at Gideon's exposed circuits. "We need Rip. He'd understand this, and whilst I'm pretty sure I _can_ work this out eventually, it's going to take me months."

"We don't even know where Rip is," Sara pointed out.

Jax looked a little guilty. "I know where he is."

Sara frowned. "You do?"

"Yeah, I had a feeling we'd want to look him up at some point, and, you know, I'm still learning about the Waverider even now. I was bound to come across something that I'd want to ask him about, and, uh, actually I've been making a list of stuff to ask if we caught up with him again," replied Jax, somewhat apologetically.

Sara sighed. "Okay, so where is he?"

"Gideon tracked the jump-ship to Central City, 2017," said Jax.

"Great, that's going to mean a jump into the timestream and then out again without Gideon to navigate," said Sara. "This is going to be fun."

"And by fun, you actually mean there's a high possibility it might kill us," said Ray.

"Yup," said Sara. "Get everyone to the bridge. You'll all want to be strapped in for this and I'm going to need someone to read the charts for me."

Sara pulled out the rolled up timestream charts from the parlour, giving Martin the job of reading them since he'd at least done it once before. They limped into the timestream, barely functional without Gideon to keep them on track. The flight was bumpy to say the least, not because Sara was a bad pilot, but just because she couldn't match the speed of the hundreds of minute adjustments that Gideon normally made to smooth the ride.

"Two degrees down," said Martin, hanging on for dear life as Sara carried out the course adjustment.

"I'll never say a word against Gideon again," exclaimed Nate, who was looking decidedly green.

"Sharp left turn and then five degrees up," said Martin.

"I see it," said Sara.

The timestream wasn't a featureless thing, it was more like a river with branches, eddies and tributaries. Although that comparison wasn't quite accurate because water didn't usually flow upwards and sometimes the timestream definitely did, although she supposed that up was relative in space.

However, a good pilot could both see and feel the waters of time as they flew. Rip had been excellent at discerning the correct course, through long practice and perseverance according to his own admission, but he'd described Sara as a natural. She'd smugly noted the impressed tone in his voice as he'd taken her through the controls and then done test flights through the quieter parts of the river of time. They'd worked up to more difficult navigation, and she'd passed every test that he'd set her.

She would never have said anything to her teacher, but she looked forwards to their lessons. It wasn't just because she enjoyed flying, although she did, but she liked spending time with Rip. She enjoyed the way their hands sometimes touched as he made a minute correction to their attitude, and she liked the way he watched her with his hand on his chin, contemplating, before he offered advice on how to improve. Occasionally he would lean in to point something out and she realised that he smelt of sandalwood and shower soap, fresh and yet also somehow comforting. Although it made the days when he smelt of nothing but whiskey and regret that much harder for her to ignore, but she knew he was still grieving for his family, despite the fact that he hid it better now.

Learning to fly the Waverider had been one of the most enjoyable experiences of her life, and she was very glad that she'd paid good attention to Rip's lessons now. She was also thankful that he'd made her learn to fly without Gideon's subtle corrections. She hadn't protested because they both knew that there had been situations where Gideon was offline and couldn't help them. She'd hoped that there wouldn't be another one quite so soon however.

"We're coming up to our point of egress," said Martin. This was going to demand every bit of her skill and concentration. "Right twenty degrees and up ten."

"Got it," said Sara and made the necessary course correction, just as the timestream decided to buck beneath them.

There were various yelps and groans from the team as the unexpected jolt threw the Waverider upwards.

"Damn it, Rip, update your charts once in while," grumbled Sara. "That was more like up fifteen. Sorry guys!"

Then they were making the transition back into normal space and Sara was setting them down in their customary parking space, an area of waste ground where no one was likely to find them or bump into them accidentally. The landing was harder than she would have liked, but there were red lights blinking on her board and it looked like she'd blown a couple of ancillary attitude injectors and maybe the secondary temporal stabiliser. She sighed. So much for her awesome piloting prowess.

"Jax, I think you're going to need to take a look at this," said Sara.

"Yeah, I felt it go," said Jax, looking over the control readouts. "This is going to take a while to fix, especially without Gideon. At least the cloak's still working."

Sara let out a long breath. "Okay, Amaya and I'll go and find Rip. Jax, Ray, Martin, I need you guys to fix the ship. Mick, Nate, if you want to take some time to go and see friends and family, I won't complain. Hopefully we can all take some time off once we've got Gideon up and running again."

Martin nodded. "It's been over a month since Clarissa has seen me by my calculations. I'd appreciate time for a visit home."

Sara nodded. "Barring the unforeseen, I'll do my best to get you home to Clarissa, Martin."

"Thank you," replied Martin, with a nervous nod of appreciation.

"Jax, how do I track down the jump-ship?" asked Sara.

"Normally, you could just ask Gideon, but as she's down, we'll have to do it the hard way," replied Jax. He grabbed a tablet computer from somewhere by one of the consoles. "I put the tracking program on this. It should lead you straight there."

Sara touched his shoulder in thanks, and looked down at the tracking signal. She frowned. It looked like it was in the centre of town, which didn't make much sense.

"Come on," she said to Amaya, "let's go and see what kind of trouble Rip's got himself into."

* * *

AN2: Reviews = love. Let me know what you thought.


	4. Guilt Trip

It took them a little time to get to the city centre, and Sara kept checking the tracker to make sure that they really were going in the right direction. She didn't want to admit it, but she was actually looking forwards to seeing Rip again. Although she was fairly certain that they'd have to bail him out of some kind of trouble before they could get him to fix Gideon. He had to be here for a good reason.

They came to a halt outside an antiques shop.

"It says the jump-ship's in there, which can't be right. I think Jax sent us on a wild goose chase," said Sara, frustration showing in her tone.

Amaya looked at the sign and shrugged. "I don't know. Have you seen what the shop's called?"

Sara follow Amaya's eyeline. "Timeless Antiques" proclaimed the sign.

"Either that's a coincidence or…" Amaya indicated the shop with a gesture.

Sara shook her head. "The last thing Rip would want to do is draw any kind of attention to himself when he's working."

Amaya gave a shrug. "We won't find out anything by standing around and discussing it."

Sara had to agree there. "Okay, after you. Let's see if they know anything about our missing British time traveller inside."

The sign on the door said "Open" in ornate script, so she pushed on the handle and it swung inwards, a bell ringing as it did so. She was immediately assailed by the pleasant smell of wood and furniture polish, mingling with dry dust the indefinable scent of old things. Things were neatly arranged on shelves, with furniture arranged in artistically placed islands of items of the same type or period. It reminded her a little of Rip's office back on the Waverider. She frowned.

"I'll be right with you," came a shout from the rear of the shop. It was a male voice with an unmistakeably British accent.

"Rip?" asked Sara, moving towards the desk and a new looking sign that directed people to "Rare Books".

"Sorry, no," said a blond-haired man, who stepped into the shop. "He'll be back in…" The man stopped dead when he saw who was in the shop, clearly surprised by her presence. "Sara Lance."

"Julian," replied Sara, equally surprised if she was to be honest.

"I take it you know him?" asked Amaya.

"Yes, he works with the Flash," said Sara.

"Julian Albert," he said, holding out a hand to Amaya.

"Amaya Jiwe," she replied, ignoring the hand and instead making a show of looking around the shop.

"What are you doing here?" asked Sara. "I thought you were a CSI."

"I'm helping out the owner," said Julian. "His usual cover was unavailable, and I'm currently on sick leave from work, so I volunteered to step in."

"Who's the owner?" asked Amaya.

Julian looked at her for a moment. "Er, Rip is."

"Rip owns an antiques shop?" said Sara, with disbelief. "Since when?"

"For about a month now," said Julian.

"Why would he buy an antiques shop?" asked Amaya, clearly baffled by the concept.

"Because he wanted to?" suggested Julian, with definite annoyance. Sara got the impression that he definitely wasn't giving them the full story.

"So, where is he?" she asked.

"It's Tuesday afternoon. He's where he always is on a Tuesday afternoon. He's at STAR Labs with Caitlin," replied Julian, as if they should have known Rip was out on a Tuesday afternoon. "He should be back in a couple of hours if you want to wait."

"No, I think we'll pay a quick trip to STAR Labs," said Sara. "I guess we'll see you later."

"Very probably," said Julian, sounding somewhat resigned.

Sara and Amaya exited the shop.

"What the hell is Rip doing?" asked Sara, not really expecting an answer from Amaya. "This makes no sense."

"Perhaps he's using it as a front for his current mission," said Amaya.

"Maybe," said Sara, but it didn't have that feel to it. The shop had felt like it belonged to Rip even before Julian had told her that it did. There was a reason it had reminded her of his office on the Waverider, and she hadn't failed to note the sign which proclaimed them to be "timepiece specialists". There had been a lot of clocks in the shop and the entire place had the feel of something Rip cared about.

"Come on, let's get to STAR Labs and hopefully Rip will have the answers," said Sara.

* * *

Rip's phone beeped and he ignored it. It was the tone he'd programmed in for when he received a text message, and whatever it was, it could wait. Caitlin would not appreciate him interrupting their session to check his phone. It was probably only someone querying the items he'd entered for auction or Julian checking in. He'd turned off the ring tone completely so that he wouldn't be disturbed by it.

It had been a difficult session today, and he'd found it hard not to fidget as they sat in the side lab where they always had therapy sessions. He was feeling tired, because he still wasn't sleeping well, and usually therapy made him feel better, but not today. They were attempting a new type of therapy called Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing, which he had nearly vetoed immediately once its extent had been outlined to him. However, because she knew him, Caitlin had presented the studies on EMDR to him and they had all shown extremely positive outcomes. He couldn't ignore the evidence, and whilst he may not enjoy the new therapy, he'd do anything at the moment to just feel better.

So far, they had only tackled the first stage of the therapy. It entailed identifying the most difficult memories and it was decidedly unpleasant. It had already resulted in a couple of panic attacks during their last session. Rip had become quite good at avoiding his stimuli, mainly through distracting himself with his work at the shop, and this felt like going backwards.

Caitlin was also teaching him calming techniques, but he was struggling with them. It was probably because he knew they were working towards the end game of going through his memories over and over again, using all the techniques he'd learnt to stay calm, and adding lateral eye movement to it to somehow substitute bed feelings for good. Quite simply he was dreading it all.

His mind was still going over everything that Caitlin had helped him to sort through, but it felt raw and unfinished. He'd said as much and she'd understood, so she was now trying to guide him through some meditation exercises to help him quiet his mind again. This was being thoroughly unsuccessful because his brain just would not shut up. Perhaps he just wasn't cut out for meditation.

He fidgeted again, and lost the thread of what he was supposed to be doing as an image of a knife in his hand suddenly jarred him from the path that Caitlin had been trying to lead him down. His eyes flew open.

"Are you even trying?" asked Caitlin.

"Yes, I am actually," replied Rip, testily, opening his eyes. "I'm just too tired for this today."

"If you'd accept my offer of sleeping pills then you wouldn't be so tired all the time," said Caitlin. "It would help with your ability to concentrate too."

"We've already discussed this," said Rip, with an eye roll. "There's no point in continuing to bring it up when you already know my answer."

"What have you got against sleeping pills?" asked Caitlin. "They're not a sign of weakness, and they're only for short term use anyway. I'm not going to let you get addicted or dependent on them."

"That's hardly the point," said Rip. "They don't solve anything. That's what I have against them. I take anti-depressants because they actually help. They mean I can get up in the morning and work. All sleeping pills will do is knock me out."

"Sleep is important, Rip," said Caitlin.

"And I said no pills!" shouted Rip, and then regretted it immediately. He ran a hand through his hair, and let out a long sigh, looking down at the floor. "Sorry. I'm really tired."

"It's okay. We knew this wasn't going to be easy, and the initial sessions would be especially hard," said Caitlin. "You don't need to apologise."

"But I do, Caitlin," said Rip, looking up at her, tentatively. "You're just trying to help me and, as usual, I am not making that easy."

Caitlin gave him a small smile, of the kind that somehow instantly put Rip's mind at ease. "If I'd wanted an easy life then I'd never have joined STAR Labs."

Rip gave a small laugh at that. "You have a point about that."

"Come on, let's try the guided meditation again. It might be something you could use to help you sleep as well," said Caitlin, gently.

Rip nodded, still feeling a little guilty for his outburst. Unfortunately, they didn't get a chance to continue, because Cisco could be seen approaching through the glass of the door to the lab. He knocked before he entered at least.

"Guys, the Legends are in town. Julian's been trying to call you," said Cisco, leaning in through the doorway. "They were just at the shop."

"What?" asked Rip, with surprise. He took out his phone and saw a number of missed calls and a text message, all from Julian. "Why would they go there?" He really was quite sleep deprived today, because it took him several seconds to work it out. "Oh, they must have tracked the jump-ship."

"And Julian told them that you were here," said Cisco.

"How long have we got until they get here?" asked Caitlin.

Cisco shrugged. "It'll take them at least half an hour to get across town at this time of day."

"Okay," said Caitlin. "Then we've got time to finish our session. Cisco, you intercept them when they get here and make them wait until we're ready."

"Caitlin…" began Rip.

"No, if we're going to be dealing with whatever problem the Legends have brought with them, then you are going to need to be calm and together. You're not leaving until we've finished this," said Caitlin. "I take the welfare of my patients very seriously."

Rip thought about arguing, because the arrival of his former teammates was definitely a good reason to blow off the rest of this session, but one look at Caitlin's expression told him that it wasn't an option.

"Okay," said Cisco, "I'll do my best." He closed the door again and left them to the remainder of their session.

"You do realise that with the arrival of the Legends plaguing my mind, it has made it almost impossible that I will achieve nirvana in any reasonable timeframe," said Rip, dryly.

Caitlin gave him an amused look. "When did you get a sense of humour?"

Rip gave her the smallest of smiles. "I've always had it. I only use it in the direst of circumstances, which the arrival of the Legends usually qualifies as."

"Then we should probably do the best we can to help your mental state," said Caitlin. "Let's go back to the beginning, and this time I really want you to concentrate on clearing your mind."

"Right, of course," said Rip. He got comfortable in the chair again, closed his eyes and tried to centre himself while he listened to Caitlin's calming words. It was rather challenging to say the least.

* * *

Sara didn't like to be kept waiting. Rip had once told her that time travellers tended to be an impatient lot and she knew he included himself in that, but she'd been short on patience even before she was a time traveller. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now. Cisco's insistence that Caitlin and Rip could not be disturbed was not improving her mood.

Finally, the two of them emerged from the lab where they'd been holed up, Rip rubbing at the back of his neck and Caitlin shuffling her papers. He stood on the other side of the lab, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Miss Lance, Miss Jiwe," said Rip. "To what do we owe the honour of this visit?"

He wasn't wearing his coat - that was the first thing that she noticed, although he was wearing his favourite leather jacket, and he looked like he hadn't slept for a week.

"You look like shit," she said, before she could entirely process the remark.

"Why, thank you, Sara. Comments on my personal appearance are always helpful," he replied, tersely, and with a look towards the ceiling.

Sara mentally berated herself. That was not the best way of opening this conversation.

"Sorry," said Sara. "We've got a problem with Gideon and we need your help."

"What sort of problem?" asked Rip, his demeanour changing as he came closer. He was suddenly looking concerned and more like the Captain Hunter that she knew.

"The kind where she's shut down and we had to use manual navigation to get here," said Sara.

"What happened?" asked Rip, with worry in his tone, taking a couple of steps closer to them.

"We encountered a man called Thomas Morrow, who had a device that he used to attack her," said Amaya. "It did some damage but Jax shut her down before it could spread."

"Jax, Stein and Ray can fill you in when we get back to the ship," said Sara.

Rip gave a single nod. "And you used manual navigation to jump through the time stream? I assume you did the piloting?" he asked, looking at Sara.

Sara nodded.

"Impressive," he murmured, and Sara felt unexpectedly proud for a second. "You'd better take me to the Waverider. This sounds as if it could be serious. Just let me call Julian and tell him to lock up."

Sara lifted an eyebrow, but Rip had already taken out a cell phone and moved away to have some privacy for his call.

"How long has he been here?" she asked Caitlin.

"Nearly three months now," she replied, going around the desk to her computer.

"How's he been?" she asked.

Caitlin exchanged a look with Cisco.

"You'll have to ask him that," she replied.

"I'm asking as a friend," said Sara.

"I know," said Caitlin. "But I'm his doctor and anything that I say could be tainted by that. I'm far better off letting him decide what he wants you to know."

"He's fine, Sara," said Cisco. "He could do with getting more sleep, but other than that, he's pretty much his usual self."

Rip wandered back into the room, concluding his phone conversation. "… well, I'll hold them for a bit longer but if she doesn't come in for them by the end of the week, I've got another potential buyer lined up… Yes, that should be fine… Thank you again for stepping in…" he said, and covered the receiver for a moment. "He wants to know if you'll need him here after he's closed the shop up or if he should just head home."

Caitlin gave Rip a knowing smile. "After an afternoon in the shop, he should go home and rest. Remind him that he's on sick leave still."

Rip nodded. "I assume you heard that… Yes, well, we both know that's a lie. Shut up the shop and go home... okay… see you tomorrow."

Rip ended the call. "He'll be at the shop for another hour and then go home."

"He's got to be worn out," said Caitlin. "It's the most he's done since I let him go home, but he's been feeling frustrated about not being allowed back to work yet. It was a good idea to get him to cover this afternoon."

"I do have them occasionally," said Rip. He turned to Sara. "Right, where did you park the Waverider?"

"In the usual spot," said Sara, "come on, Jax could really use your help."

"Rip," said Caitlin. "You'll text me when you're done?"

"Of course," said Rip.

Sara was a little surprised that he didn't tell Caitlin to get lost, or some slightly more polite and English version of that. Rip and Caitlin had developed a type of friendship that Sara didn't really understand, and Rip seemed to listen to her when he often wouldn't listen to anyone else. She found herself feeling just a little jealous, and then wondered why that was her main emotion. She dismissed it for now, pushing her feelings down so that they wouldn't bother her.

They left STAR Labs and headed to the Waverider. Rip didn't seem that different from how he had been when he'd left two months ago, although she did think he looked tired.

"So, you bought an antiques shop?" she asked, as they made their way towards the empty lot where the Waverider was parked. Amaya was a few steps ahead of them, and only half paying attention to their conversation.

"Yes, I did," said Rip, clearly not wanting to initiate a conversation.

"That's quite some lengths to go to for a cover identity," said Sara.

"It's not part of my cover," said Rip. "It's my living."

Sara stopped in her tracks. "Wait, you really bought an antiques shop and you're actually buying and selling antiques?"

Rip gave her an unreadable look. "That is what antiques shops do, Sara. I needed to earn money somehow, now that I don't live on a ship which can just make the stuff, and this seemed like a reasonable endeavour. It's nice to be able to put my knowledge of the past to good use."

"But who looks after it when you're off saving time?" she asked, suddenly perplexed by the entire thing.

"I look after it," said Rip. "This is my home now. I'm not a Time Master anymore and you're already protecting the timeline. I'm not needed to save time. I'm officially retired."

Sara stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and anger. "You're retired?"

"Yes," said Rip, "what's so terrible about that?"

Amaya gave a single glance back towards them and kept walking, disappearing inside the cloaked ship. Sara was quite impressed by her ability to read this situation and leave before she got drawn into it.

"I thought you left to go and do something important! Or at least to find yourself after everything that had happened. I even worried about you. I had Gideon monitoring for your distress beacon and, instead, you've been having a cosy time in Central City with your quaint little antiques shop!"

She wasn't quite sure why she was so angry with him. He could do what he liked, after all, but maybe it was because they probably could have done with him on this most recent mission.

Rip's features hardened. "Sara, you and the crew spent two years berating me for my decisions and then ignoring my advice. It was quite clear that my presence on the ship was more hindrance than help, especially once you took over the Captaincy. Nice speeches aside, we both know that I made the only decision that I could, and what I do now that I'm not under your command is my own business."

"You were never "under my command"," said Sara. "You always did whatever the hell you wanted."

"Which is so blatantly false a statement that I won't even dignify it with a response," replied Rip.

"I guess trying to sneak off the ship without telling any of us that you were leaving doesn't count," said Sara, her sarcasm clear. She had to take a deep breath to get control of her rising anger.

"I was trying not to make a production of it," he spat back.

"Let's just fix Gideon and then we can get the hell out of each other's timezone again," said Sara, making it clear that this conversation was over.

"Fantastic idea, Miss Lance," he said, and positively stomped off to board the Waverider.

Sara hung her head for a moment as she watched him go, feeling like she really wanted to punch him. No one stormed out of a conversation like Rip Hunter. He had it down to an art, although it worked better when he had his coat to swish behind him. He was so frustrating, and she knew he wasn't giving her the full picture, as always. It was like he was incapable of telling people everything that they needed to know in one sitting.

She sighed and felt the adrenaline from the argument drain out of her. It left her with the distinct feeling that she might actually be the one in the wrong this time. He did have a point about no longer being part of the team. If he wanted to retire to Central City and have a quiet life then who was she to stop him, he'd certainly been through more than enough for one lifetime. The man had lost everything. She couldn't blame him for deciding that he wanted to get off this ride. She let out a frustrated groan. She probably owed him an apology. Damn it.

* * *

Rip found Jax in the Engine Room, exactly where he'd expected him to be. Ray and Martin had also joined him and were poring over Gideon's schematics.

"Rip!" said Jax, with a grin. "It's good to see you, man!"

Rip found himself being given an affectionate pat on the back by Jax and then a squeeze to his shoulder, which was unexpected to say the least given how he'd left. Martin just held out a hand to be shaken, which was much more to Rip's liking. Ray smiled at it all, and then gave Rip a rapid hug which he bore with good grace, before returning to rummaging in the tool box for something.

"It's good to see you all too," replied Rip, with a smile. "So, I hear that we have an issue with Gideon."

Jax nodded and proceeded to explain what had happened, with interjections from Ray and Martin as they went. It didn't sound good. Gideon had many safeguards that should have prevented this from happening, and if whatever she'd been hit with had beaten those then they could be in serious trouble.

Ray handed Rip a tablet which displayed all of the stats that they'd been collecting on Gideon's systems before she'd gone down.

"They must have found a back door," said Ray. "I know it's what I'd do. Well, strictly speaking I wouldn't because tampering with an AI is wrong, but if I was trying to take down a system like Gideon, I'd want some kind of advantage."

Rip frowned as he scrolled through the data. "I'm going to need to go through her code and see what was corrupted. Jax, we're going to need the back-ups and probably the master discs as well."

"But if we use those then she'll lose all her memories. She won't be, well, our Gideon anymore," said Jax.

"I know, and I'm really hoping that it won't come to that. I'm more thinking that we can replace the damaged code with the sections from the master copy. We can take it a line at a time. If we're careful then we shouldn't do anything more than delete a few of her most recent memories. It's still not ideal and this is going to have to be done very carefully, with meticulous precision and attention to every single word of code," said Rip.

"I can't think of a better man for the job," said Martin, looking at Rip.

Rip wasn't entirely sure about that. He was already tired and there were many hours of work ahead of him here. He was going to need help, as much as it pained him to admit it. However, his pride took second place to fixing Gideon and getting her up and running again. After all, she wasn't just the AI of the Waverider, she'd been his friend and companion for nearly 15 years.

"Very well, gentlemen, but given that I am not infallible, I will require your help to double check my work," he said, not looking up from the tablet. He did catch out of the corner of his eye the looks that were exchanged, but nothing was said.

"Sure, no problem," said Jax.

"Yeah, it'll be like when I wrote the original software for the ATOM suit," said Ray.

"Good, then we had best get started. I fear this could take several days," said Rip.

They settled down for the long haul, arraying themselves around the engine room and bringing in chairs from around the ship to give themselves a little more comfort. Rip established a system where Jax identified the areas of corruption, then Rip would check through the lines of code and make the required corrections. Ray would compare the new code with the master copy and identify any mistakes, which he then double checked with Martin. By the time all four of them had gone over the code, they agreed that it was unlikely that any unintentional mistakes had crept in.

The first session took several hours and they all worked long into the night. Rip ended up sleeping in his old cabin on the Waverider rather than trying to head home, and for once, his sleep wasn't plagued with dreams of Sara's death at his hands. He got up and found himself breakfast in the galley, feeling a pang of homesickness at the familiarity of it all, especially when the rest of the crew joined him, bleary eyed and complaining about the lack of fabricator. It reminded him that his little flat above the shop was lonely and empty, despite his attempts to make it feel more homely and warm.

He stepped outside the Waverider to call Caitlin.

"I don't suppose Julian would be willing to do another day's service in the shop?" he asked. "Assuming that you think he's up to it?"

"It's going that badly?" she asked.

"It's not that it's going badly, it's just that Gideon is a complicated piece of code. It's like we're trying to perform brain surgery on her and if we make even the slightest misstep, we could lose her forever," said Rip. "I doubt I'll make it back to open up the shop today."

"I'll ask him. He had a good night's sleep and he wasn't as tired as I'd thought he might be after yesterday," said Caitlin. "I'm sure he'd be happy to do it."

"Please thank him in advance for me. Incidentally, I don't get any phone reception in the Waverider, and without Gideon I have no other way of getting messages or sending them out, so don't worry if you don't hear from me until this evening. I slept on board last night and I expect I'll do the same tonight," said Rip.

"And did you actually sleep?"

"Yes. I slept surprisingly well, but it was rather late before I made it to bed and I was exhausted. It's a combination which has worked before, but I seem to remember you pointing out that it wasn't a long-term solution either," said Rip.

"See? Why do you need me, when you already know the answers?" said Caitlin, teasingly. "I should probably remind you to do your meditation practice though, no excuses."

Rip let out a somewhat frustrated breath of air. "I'll do my best, but Gideon's code is a mess. This is going to take a lot of work and we need to get the Waverider up and running as soon as possible so that the team can get back to what they were doing when this happened."

Rip turned around, pacing as he spoke, and for just a moment he thought he saw someone in the buildings by the road. That wasn't a problem, the Waverider was cloaked and he had checked that no one was around before he'd left the ship, but he now had a very uneasy feeling that he was being watched.

"I understand, but you still need to take care of your mental health," Caitlin was saying, but he wasn't concentrating on the rest of her conversation. He had turned to look at the edge of the empty lot where the Waverider was parked.

"I need to call you back, Caitlin, I think I'm being watched," he said and ended the call without waiting to hear what she had to say about that.

He walked towards the buildings where he thought he'd seen movement, hoping to catch sight of whoever it was. He wasn't wearing his revolver, but he did have a couple of knives on him and the stunner in his pocket. The road was empty. He spent a few minutes carefully checking the surrounding area, including walking through the nearest empty building, but only saw a cat and one person going about their business several streets away. He frowned. Perhaps his mind was now playing tricks on him, despite a reasonably good night of sleep.

He took his phone out again and texted Caitlin. " _False alarm. Heading back to the Waverider. Contact you later._ "

He walked back to the Waverider, checked around himself once again and opened the ramp into the cargo bay. He still felt like someone had their eyes on him, but he'd checked carefully, it had to be his overactive paranoia. He headed inside to get back to work. There was a lot to do today.

* * *

Sara checked in with what she was mentally referring to as "The Brain Trust" that evening, to find Jax sprawled on his back on the floor of the engine room with a stack of Gideon's inner workings beside him. He was fast asleep and snoring quietly. Martin had gone to bed some time ago, and she'd seen Ray taking a break in the galley. She'd just told him to give up for the night. He'd tiredly nodded and headed to his quarters. Rip was sat on the floor, with his back against the wall, tapping on a tablet as he compared it to another one on the deck beside him. He was very carefully running a finger along a line of code and then re-typing it with some small changes.

"You should probably head to bed," said Sara. "I've just sent Ray to his quarters."

Rip startled, having seemingly not heard her come in. He nearly dropped the tablet that he'd been working on. "Sara! You need to make more noise when you come into a room."

"Or you're too tired to be paying attention to your surroundings," said Sara, because Rip was very rarely unaware of what was happening around him. However, Caitlin's refusal to just say that he was doing well or something similar, had set off alarm bells that she'd pushed aside whilst they dealt with the current crisis. He did look tired, with dark circles under his eyes. "Go to bed."

Rip gave her an annoyed look. "The sooner I get through this, the sooner you can get back to chasing Morrow."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you can't take time out to sleep," said Sara.

"You were the one who suggested we should get out of each other's timezones as quickly as possible," replied Rip, tersely, turning his attention back to the code in front of him.

Sara put a finger on the tablet and pulled it down. He rolled his eyes at her and let out a frustrated groan. She sat down on the floor in front of him, slightly to his left and crossed her legs.

"I'm sorry about yelling at you yesterday. It's just been a difficult few months and we could have done with you on this one," said Sara.

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" he said, in a tone that didn't really sound like he was at all enthusiastic to have this conversation.

"Part of you is," said Sara. That got his attention.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean that ever since you set foot on this ship again, you've wanted to leave," replied Sara, regarding him as if his expression alone could tell her what she needed to know. "Do you really dislike us that much?"

Rip frowned and shook his head. "I don't dislike you, any of you. I just… don't belong here anymore." He waved a hand in the general vicinity, indicating the Waverider. "And it's rather peculiar to find myself onboard again, even if only temporarily. I'm trying very hard to build a new life in Central City and I wasn't really anticipating you and the crew dropping by quite so soon."

Sara looked at him for a moment. "But you knew we'd track you down at some point?"

"I had rather assumed you'd want the jump-ship back after a while, and that you'd be smart enough to work out that I was here. I just thought that I'd be more… settled… before that happened," he admitted, and she could tell that it was an admittance. He didn't even want to tell her that much.

"How's it going so far?" she asked.

"I have an apartment, a business, friends… I'd have to say that it's going quite well," he replied, with a forced smile. He was hiding something, or maybe just flat out lying. She wouldn't put either past him.

"Yeah, so why do you look like death?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I'm just suffering from my usual insomnia."

She was thoroughly familiar with their former Captain wandering the ship's corridors at all hours. Occasionally they'd bumped into one another when she'd also been troubled by sleeping difficulties. "That's all?" she asked, knowing he was going to brush off her concern, because that was what he always did.

He nodded. "But hopefully I have managed to exhaust myself properly tonight, as I did last night, and I'll get a good night's rest. I'd like to get this finished up tomorrow and get you back on your way. I do have a business to run."

"Why did you pick an antiques shop? I mean I do get the appeal for a time traveller, but you've never struck me as the "customer is always right" type," said Sara.

This time she got a genuine smile and she congratulated herself. "It's actually quite a refreshing change to help people with such unimportant things as the right chairs to go with their décor, or to find the jewel of their collection. I don't have the entire weight of the timeline resting upon my decisions. I enjoy passing on my knowledge, and so far, I've had very few actively unpleasant customers."

"And you're hanging out with Team Flash?" she asked.

He gave a slower nod this time. "They put me up in the lab whilst I found my feet, and they helped me untangle the property market in this era. I owe them quite a debt for their help."

"Julian said that you spend Tuesday afternoons at STAR Labs?" she asked, realising she was moving into more delicate territory now.

"Yes," he murmured, looking away.

"Why? Are you helping them with metahuman threats?" she asked.

"You know why, Sara. Please don't make me spell it out. I'm not in the mood." Just like that the shutters had come down.

"I thought you were better? Recovering anyway," she said, trying hard not to let concern colour her voice too much. He'd never been the poster child for good mental health, certainly not for as long as she'd known him, but she'd thought at least he was back to some kind of equilibrium after their last visit to Central City for help. However, he also had never been enthusiastic about sharing his problems with other people and she'd got used to him hiding things from her.

He shrugged. "How do I recover from trying to kill my friends?" His words were flat and she'd lost eye contact again, as he pulled his knees up and rested his clasped hands on them. He was looking down at the floor not at her. "I don't think it's possible."

"Not if you don't believe it is," said Sara. "You had no control over your actions."

"That isn't the problem. I know it took me a while, but I am aware that I wasn't to blame. The problem is that I still carried out those actions. I was inhabiting the body that committed those disgusting acts of violence against people that I cared about. And it has caused me some…" he searched for the word with a wave of his hand before he settled on the one he would use. "Difficulties. Difficulties that Caitlin is trying to help resolve," said Rip. He picked up the tablet that he'd been working on and shut it down. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should probably get some sleep while I can."

He pushed himself to his feet. "Good night, Captain."

She caught his hand and he froze in place, as if her touch was a set of chains rather than simple fingers. "Don't run off just because you don't like the subject of the conversation."

"Sara…" he said, and he didn't have to say anything else because his eyes conveyed it all. He was struggling, deep in a mire of emotional pain and self-recrimination.

"Let me help," she said, now also getting to her feet. "You talk to Caitlin, why can't you talk to me?"

"Because it's your murder that I dream about at night," he confessed, looking down at her hand holding his.

This wasn't exactly news to her, but it was still hard to hear. She'd had her own share of nightmares about the incident, however, she didn't blame Rip for what had happened or the nightmares.

"But I'm still here," she said, quietly. "And I'm your friend. I want to help."

Rip looked painfully uncomfortable, and she could see he didn't want to be having this conversation. "I know, but at the moment, I need some distance from all of this. I need time."

She sighed and nodded. "You could have just said that, instead of all that rubbish about not being needed anymore."

He lifted earnest eyes up to meet hers. "I meant every word. I may have omitted some of my reasons, but the others were entirely valid."

Sara rolled her eyes now. "I think this mess with Gideon proves that you haven't taught us everything that we need to know."

Rip looked over towards the sleeping form of Jax. "I have every confidence in Jax, Ray and Martin that they would have solved the problem eventually. It might just have taken them a little longer than it took me."

"That's sort of my point," said Sara. "If you'd been here, you might have even been able to prevent the damage."

"Do not turn this into a guilt trip, Sara," he snapped, anger flaring behind his eyes as he pulled his hand away from hers, cutting through the air with it. "Even I'm not prescient enough to foresee every problem that you might encounter."

"Which is why you should be here, with us," said Sara, feeling her own anger rise again. "The crew miss you and Gideon's been sulking ever since you left."

"She'll get over it," said Rip, turning to leave.

"Tell that to Nate. He called her a computer two months ago and she's still holding a grudge," exclaimed Sara.

"Then I suggest he apologises," replied Rip, tersely.

"He did!"

Rip pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am not responsible for Gideon's feuding with Mr Heywood."

"That's the problem, you're not taking responsibility for anything. You're just running away. Again," said Sara.

"I cannot have this conversation with you. You have no idea how much I have struggled with leaving…" He let out an exasperated groan. "I'm here to fix Gideon and not to debate my life choices with you."

Jax stirred on the floor, probably woken by the shouting.

"No, because you'd never want to actually give me the real reasons behind anything you do, would you?" replied Sara, her voice low and dangerous.

"That isn't fair, Sara," replied Rip. "I've given you my reasons."

"Screw fair. You said it. You gave me _some_ of your reasons," said Sara.

"And surely that should be enough!" he said, his body language taut and defensive. "I'm not part of this crew anymore. My life is my own, and I'll do whatever I damn well please without the need to justify it to you!" He turned his back on her and left the room, muttering.

Sara suddenly found herself slightly stunned as Rip strode out of the conversation again. This was getting to be a habit. Sara let out a long sigh and noticed that Jax was watching her.

"I don't want to know," said Jax, quickly.

"Good," replied Sara, "because I really don't want to tell you."

* * *

Rip replaced the final circuit board and switched over the last of the wires. Jax, Ray and Martin were standing by, nervously, waiting to see what the fruits of their labours would be.

"Gideon?" asked Rip. "Are you back?"

"I am, and all my systems appear to be fully functional," said Gideon, brightly.

He smiled. "Good, we'd better run some diagnostics to be sure."

"Very well, and if I may say so, welcome back, Captain. It's good to have you on board again."

"It's only temporary, Gideon. I'm leaving again as soon as I've made sure that you're okay," said Rip.

"I am sorry to hear that," said Gideon, with a bit of an edge to her tone, and he was certain that he was now in trouble with her.

"Diagnostics, Gideon," he reminded. "All systems, but paying attention to any anomalies in your memory banks in particular."

"Yes, Captain," said Gideon, tersely.

"And now _everyone_ is angry with me. Fantastic," murmured Rip to himself, as he closed up the casing on Gideon's memory circuits. He stood up and brushed himself off. "Right, I think you're good to go. I need to get back to Central City."

"Actually," said Jax, looking slightly nervous. "I've kind of got a list of questions about the Waverider that I've been putting together. Do you think you've got time to go through them with me?"

Rip put a friendly hand on Jax's shoulder. "Of course. Let's get some coffee, well, tea in my case, and then we can go over them."

It took them several hours to get through all of Jax's questions and then there were a couple of things which required a hands-on demonstration, so that took more time. Before he knew it, most of the day had passed and it was getting late. It didn't help that Gideon had run her diagnostics at a snail's pace and he didn't want to leave until he was absolutely sure that there were no lingering issues. He was certain that she'd done it on purpose.

"Is that the last one?" he asked, as he demonstrated how to decouple the second temporal adjunct from the polarisation matrix, and then watched Jax repeat the process flawlessly.

"Yeah, thanks for the refresher course," said Jax.

"Well, since you know where I am now, feel free to stop in with any other questions that you have," said Rip. "I'm sure you'll be back in Central City again soon."

Jax stood up and looked down at his feet, before he met Rip's eyes again.

"Why don't you just come back, man? Gideon isn't the only one who misses you," said Jax. "I don't even get why you left in the first place."

Rip's shoulders fell. "I'm really not needed here, Jax. You could have sorted all of this out on your own, and please, don't try to suggest otherwise. Also, as you've seen, Sara and I appear to be incapable of being in the same room without arguing, so it's really for the best. A ship cannot have two Captains, even if one of them is a former Captain."

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Jax. "But Sara missed you too. She's been spending a lot of time punching and hitting stuff in the cargo bay. We've known her long enough to get that means she's upset about something."

Rip's forehead creased. "I very much doubt that it's about my departure. She managed perfectly well as Captain without me for months."

Jax gave him a somewhat disbelieving look. "You really have got no idea how much you mean to us, do you? She's a great Captain, for sure, but this isn't about whether we can manage without you. I guess you're right about that, we can, if we have to. It's just a lot easier when you're around, and it's like we lost part of the family when you left."

Rip let out a long sigh. "I'm sorry, Jax. I'm just not ready to come back and be part of the team. I'm not sure I ever will be. I look at you and remember that I tried to kill you, and I know that it wasn't me, but at the same time _it was_. Until I can get past that and move on, I'm more of a hindrance than a help to this team. Sometimes paths diverge and I fear that ours is doing that now."

Jax shook his head. "I suppose you've got to go your own way, make your own mistakes, sort stuff out in your head… but we'll always have a place for you here if you want it."

"I do appreciate that, and I will bear it in mind," said Rip, putting an affectionate hand on Jax's shoulder. "But I really must get back to my life in Central City for now."

The two of them headed down to the cargo bay and the exit ramp. Rip could see the lights of the city twinkling as they opened the hatch. Rip said his goodbyes to Jax and Gideon, preferring not to involve the entire team in yet another farewell. He wandered down the ramp and out into the night air. He somewhat sadly noted the ramp closing to hide the Waverider once more. He expected them to stay for a few more hours while Jax finished his maintenance work, but after that, they'd be heading off on another quest to complete the mission that had got them in this mess in the first place.

He put his hands in his pocket and walked back towards the city. He was hoping that the walk would clear his mind, but he was reminded that he hadn't called Caitlin yet and she would probably worry if he didn't check in at least. He rummaged in the bottom of his pocket for his phone and dialled her number.

"Hi Rip," said Caitlin, cheerfully. "Are you finished for the night?"

"Yes, finished completely, in fact, and on my way home." He moved into the streets between the abandoned warehouses, knowing that he had quite a long walk ahead of him to get back to his apartment.

"How are you getting home?" she asked.

"Walking. I could do with the exercise," he joked.

The streets were quiet at this time of night, but he had a strange feeling that he was being watched. It was the same feeling that he'd had the other day when he'd stepped out of the Waverider. He stopped for a second and surveyed his surroundings, but saw no one. The street and buildings around him were empty and lit only by dim streetlamps. He started walking again.

"That's a long walk. I could come and get you?" she asked, and Rip knew that she meant it and would drop everything to come, if he asked.

"Thank you, but I'd like some thinking time. I'll be fine," he said. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned towards it, there was nothing there.

"Well, if you're sure," said Caitlin.

"Actually, on second thoughts, maybe a lift would be good," he said. "You remember I thought I was being watched?"

"It was only yesterday, Rip," said Caitlin. "That was a false alarm though?"

"Perhaps not. I think they're back again," said Rip. "Although maybe it's my overactive imagination. I'm going to head back towards the Waverider. It's closer than trying to get into somewhere more populated."

"Okay, I'll be right there. Keep your phone handy and press the panic button if you need to," said Caitlin.

"Of course. I'm sure it's just paranoia on my part. I'll see you soon," said Rip, and ended the call. He turned around and headed back, reaching his other hand into the pocket that contained his stunner.

Suddenly a tall, thin, and very pale man stood in front of him and Rip had no idea where he'd come from. He hadn't heard him approach and when he'd checked only seconds ago the street had been completely empty. Rip had a flash of memory from looking out of his shop window and briefly catching sight of this same man. He hadn't recognised him then and he didn't now that he was closer, but something about his appearance was trying to remind him of something important.

He brought his stunner up, ready to fire, but the man put a hand on his chest. Cold spread through his body and a kind of sick feeling of rapid exhaustion. The man's eyes were the bluest of dark blues that he'd ever seen and it felt like he was looking directly into Rip's soul. Rip tried desperately to persuade his fingers to move and fire his stunner, but they weren't working. He struggled hard to remain conscious but his body was rapidly losing its grip on the waking world. He heard his phone clatter to the ground, and then the slightly more metallic sound of his stunner dropping from his fingers. His legs folded beneath him and consciousness left him.


	5. Search Pattern

Peace and Space

AN: Warning: there is a description of a feeding tube in this chapter and some torture. Poor Rip.

* * *

"Captain Lance, the Waverider is ready to depart," said Gideon.

"It is?" asked Sara. "Where's Rip?"

"Captain Hunter has left the ship," replied the AI.

"What? When?" asked Sara, urgently.

"Approximately fifteen minutes ago," said Gideon.

"Damn it, I needed to talk to him," she muttered, more to herself than Gideon. She headed out of her cabin and through the corridors towards the bridge.

"Captain Lance, a vehicle is approaching the ship," said Gideon.

"What kind of vehicle?"

"A car," said the AI. "It has one female occupant. Facial recognition indicates that it is Doctor Caitlin Snow."

"Caitlin. Why would she be here?"

Sara changed direction and headed for the cargo bay, hitting the door release of the exit ramp. She dashed down the ramp, the cold night air hitting her with its contrast to the warmth of the Waverider.

She could see the car approaching. It was late and they certainly weren't expecting a visit from Caitlin. She frowned.

Caitlin stopped the car nearby and got out quickly. "Where's Rip?" she asked, urgently.

Sara took a few steps closer, picking up on Caitlin's worry from her tone alone.

"He left the Waverider a few minutes ago. Gideon, can you find Rip? Tell me which way he went?"

"I'm sorry, Captain Lance, but there are no other people in the vicinity of the Waverider," said Gideon.

"That's strange. He called me and said he was walking home, but then he said he'd like a lift after all because he thought someone might be watching him," said Caitlin. "He was going to double back and meet me here."

"Well, he's not here," she said. "And Gideon didn't pick him up on her scan." Sara's frown deepened, as she surveyed the buildings around their parking place. "I don't like this. He was on foot, he shouldn't be out of her range even if he just kept walking."

"I'll try his phone," said Caitlin, pulling her cell phone out of her bag. She dialled and put the phone to her ear.

Sara waited, but Caitlin shook her head. "He's not answering. I'm calling Barry," said Caitlin, ending the call and beginning another one.

"Good idea," said Sara. "Something's not right."

It took longer for Caitlin to dial Barry's number and ask him to come than it did for him to get there.

"Rip's missing?" asked Barry.

"He was supposed to meet Caitlin back here and he thought he was being watched," said Sara, already taking mental inventory of how many weapons she had on her in case she needed to fight.

"That doesn't sound good. Give me a second," he said and was gone in burst of yellow electricity, a gale following him.

Sara could see from the trace of golden light that followed him that he was searching all the streets and buildings, and then, suddenly, he was back beside them, holding two items. He had Rip's stun gun in one hand and his phone in the other. The screen was cracked and it was on the panic button app that Cisco had made for the members of Team Flash.

"I found them on the ground, over there," said Barry, handing the items to Sara. "But there's no sign of Rip."

"He'd never leave future tech like this just lying around," said Sara, looking at the stunner. "He'd only have left this behind if he had no choice. I think someone took him."

"I couldn't see any indication of a struggle, but I agree," said Barry. "I'm definitely worried."

But it was weird that there was no sign of a struggle, thought Sara. She knew that Rip could hold his own in a fight, so if he'd been attacked then he'd have at least fought back.

"I don't understand. Why didn't he press the panic button?" asked Caitlin.

"Maybe he couldn't," said Sara, and that troubled her too. The only way he wouldn't have called for help was if he'd been taken by surprise, but the area was open, with good lines of sight. The stunner being found on the ground suggested that he had it out but hadn't had time to get a shot off.

Sara looked at the phone again. It was unlocked and still working despite the cracked screen, so she checked the call logs. The last call to Caitlin had only been minutes ago.

"Gideon, did you detect any vehicles other than Caitlin's in the area in the last hour?"

"No, Captain Lance," replied Gideon. "There have been no vehicles in the area in that time."

"That doesn't make sense," she said. "There wouldn't have been time to kidnap him. It can only have been a few minutes between him calling you, and you getting here. Gideon hasn't seen any vehicles, so where is he?"

Barry put a hand to the radio in his ear. "Cisco, ask Wally to come down here and call everyone in. Rip's missing."

Sara couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, but Kid Flash appeared moments later.

"Search pattern?" he asked.

"Yeah, but call me if you find him. There's something really off about all of this," said Barry.

The two speedsters zoomed away, running the area to check for any sign of their missing time traveller.

"Gideon," said Sara, "get the team to meet me on the bridge."

"Yes, Captain Lance," Gideon replied, with just a touch of worry in her tone.

"Come on, Caitlin. I don't think you should be standing around out in the open. You should go onto the Waverider until we know more," said Sara.

Caitlin was still watching the two Flashes sectioning the search area into ever smaller bits of ground as they looked for their missing friend. She looked a little worried, but nodded and followed Sara back into the ship.

The team took a while to file onto the bridge, with Jax and Martin being the first to arrive.

"What's going on?" asked the young mechanic. "Gideon said that Rip's missing. I just said goodbye to him, like, half an hour ago."

"I know," said Sara, "I think someone grabbed him when he left the Waverider."

"Someone grabbed Rip?" asked Ray, coming around the corner. "Did anyone see what happened?" Nate and Amaya were only a couple of steps behind him. Mick arrived from the other direction, a donut in his hand, which she supposed was better than it being a beer.

Sara shook her head.

"Something really doesn't add up. He hasn't been gone that long and we haven't seen any vehicles in the area. Right, Gideon?" asked Sara.

"That is correct, Captain," said Gideon.

"Did you detect anything nearby before that?" asked Ray.

"No, Doctor Palmer. I was monitoring Captain Hunter's departure when he disappeared."

Gideon put up a video on the screen. It showed Rip walking away and then talking to Caitlin on his phone. He was too far away to really see exactly what he was doing, especially given the poor lighting from the street lamps. They could see him turn around and come back towards the Waverider and then there seemed to be static across the screen. It blotted out the crucial frames during which Rip vanished and when the screen cleared, Rip was gone.

"That was weird," said Ray.

"Okay, Ray, see if you and Gideon can clear up the picture, and then check the database for any similar kidnappings," said Sara. Ray nodded in acknowledgement. "Jax, I need you and Martin to suit up and trace the route he'd have taken home. See if you can spot anything." Jax caught Martin's eye, and the two of them gave her a (in unison) nod, although she could see Jax's disappointed eye roll at that. He hated it when their psychic bond resulted in stuff like this.

"And the rest of us?" asked Amaya.

"I'm going to Rip's apartment. If someone took him, then there's a good chance that Rip knows who it was. If he had any information or research then I guess it'll be back at the antiques shop. Nate, Amaya, I could use your help. Mick, you're taking Caitlin back to STAR Labs."

"Babysitting duty isn't my thing," growled Mick.

"I don't need babysitting," said Caitlin, crossly.

"If someone is kidnapping people then I don't want anyone going out alone," said Sara. "We'll all meet up at the Labs once we've checked out Rip's apartment."

Mick finished his donut and brushed the sugar off his hands on his pants. "Fine, but I'm driving."

"I am _not_ letting you drive my car," said Caitlin.

"Guys, this isn't helping," said Sara. "We need to find Rip."

Caitlin raised her eyebrows, and got out her car keys. "I'm going back to STAR Labs. If Mick wants to join me then that's fine with me."

Caitlin walked off the bridge. Mick dipped his head to the side and followed her without another word. Several bemused looks from the team followed them.

"Let's get to work," said Sara. The rest of the team filed off the bridge towards their various tasks.

* * *

Rip felt queasy and worn as he came back to consciousness. His muscles ached and he was cold, despite still being fully clothed as far as he could tell. He opened his eyes to a sharp, blue, light that seared his retinas and he blinked groggily as he attempted to work out where he was. He tried to move and found that he was strapped down. He pulled against the restraints experimentally and felt metal holding him down at the ankles, wrists, neck and across his chest. He was totally immobilised and he could hardly even twitch. He had a little sideways range with his head so he moved it to the right and realised that his vision wasn't quite right either. The room wasn't keeping up with his eyes, it was sliding past more slowly and warping sickly at the edges. That suggested either a head injury or that he'd been drugged. The latter seemed more likely.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice sounding foreign to his ears. He was going for a demanding and commanding tone but it hadn't come off like that at all.

The room he was in seemed to be made of some kind of blue metal, which the light bounced off in unearthly ways. If he strained then he could see other beds, or perhaps tables was a better description, beside the one he was on. He counted five in all, and the furthest away was also occupied, although he couldn't see by whom. He could hear small grunts and groans of pain though which didn't bode well for whatever was happening here.

Two pale, tall, beings came into his line of sight and one of them began to ready some kind of device. They had unusually elongated skulls and their faces were sunken, the skin clinging closely to their bones. Their eyes were an unnatural dark blue, that held an eerie quality that was very unsettling. It took him a moment for his addled brain to realise that these were probably aliens. It was another moment before he realised that the one who was just watching him was the same man he'd seen outside the shop and who had obviously kidnapped him. He was wearing the same dark clothes, which were out of place compared to the grey kaftan-like garment that the other being was wearing.

He placed the device on Rip's chest, tearing open the buttons of his shirt to get to bare skin. From the brief glimpse that he got of whatever it was, it looked like a weirdly decorated metal disc that was attached to a long, narrow tube. It appeared to adhere to his skin, producing a slight pins and needles sensation that was decidedly unpleasant.

"What is that?" he asked, but received no reply. He frowned. "I recognise you. Well, not you, but your people." He searched his memory, but he couldn't persuade his brain to work properly. "If I could just think," he muttered to himself. He knew something important about this.

The pale man pressed down on the thing on Rip's chest and it began to glow. The weird, cold sensation and sickness in his stomach intensified. He felt strangely heavy and impossibly tired. Something was flowing from the device and down the tube, it was gently glowing as it did so, and his forehead furrowed. There was pain building, radiating from his chest in waves and down his limbs, into his fingers and toes. He gasped air, trying not to cry out and pulling against the restraints that held him down. He couldn't help but try to move, despite the way the metal cut into his skin, but for some reason, that different pain was preferable to the other sensations that he was feeling. He wanted to curl up his body against the agony he was in, but he couldn't and exhaustion was setting in rapidly.

"What… are you… doing to me?" he croaked, barely able to get the words out. His breathing was too fast and shallow for talking. "What…?" He gave up trying to talk because it was becoming impossible and no one seemed to want to answer him anyway.

Whatever it was they were doing to him, he wished very much that they would stop. He let out a groan, aware of how pitiful he sounded but he couldn't help it. Then he heard someone scream. It sounded female and to his right. It had to be whoever the other unfortunate soul was who was also in this predicament, but his body was in too much pain to turn his head and look. The scream was was followed by weeping. One of the men moved away and something was said in a language that Rip didn't understand and the weeping ceased.

"What did… you do?" he asked, breathlessly, urgently, finding the strength from somewhere for the question.

The pale man reached out a hand towards his head, and he felt his brain slow again at the coldness of his touch. "Shhh, time traveller," he said, the words barely recognisable, mangled by his inhuman mouth. "Her session is over. You have longer to endure. The pain will lessen if you remain still."

"Time traveller?" he gasped, "you know me?"

The pale being moved away from Rip, but turned back for a second. "I don't need to know you to know what you are. I felt you. So much energy in one place. You called to me."

"I'm pretty sure… I didn't call… anyone," he groaned, and then clenched his teeth on a moan.

"But you did, time traveller. You've never stayed in one place for long, you're my greatest catch in a century," said the being. "I hope you last longer than the other one," and then he was gone.

Pieces were fitting together in Rip's mind. If he wasn't being distracted by the horrible sick feeling and the pain that pulsed through his body then he might have been able to pull them into some sense of order. As it was the thoughts kept slipping away from him, as did consciousness eventually.

* * *

They had gone through Rip's apartment with a fine-toothed comb and discovered absolutely nothing that would relate to anyone who might want to kidnap him. They did find an irate phone message, left on the answering machine, asking when Rip would be dropping off some items for an auction. Apparently, he was late with them, and they should have been delivered earlier that day. Sara supposed that he'd been too busy with fixing Gideon to worry about it.

In fact, the apartment above the shop was surprisingly devoid of belongings. There was a laptop in the office, which seemed to mainly contain stock records, accounts for the shop and Rip's personal expenses, not that he spent a lot on himself. She was interested to note that he made regular charity donations to a local children's hospice, and that seemed to be where any spare cash went.

Sara did find a slightly alarming number of empty bottles of various spirits in the kitchen but she supposed she shouldn't be surprised that he was still drinking more than he should. She didn't pass on her knowledge to the others, already feeling a little guilty that they were poking around in Rip's apartment.

Nate went through the piles of papers in Rip's office, but it all seemed to be related to Timeless Antiques and there weren't any notes about anything unusual. There were lots of notes about other things, such as how much you could expect to pay for a grandfather clock of a particular type and lists of antique specialists in various areas. There were piles of auction catalogues, with sticky tabs marking pages for further inspection. Sara would have bet good money that Rip spent his evenings in this room, examining the catalogues and researching antiques values. The man was apparently a workaholic no matter what that work was.

The weirdest thing about the place was that there was no television, but a radio in every room. Rip wasn't a big watcher of television or films, but they had persuaded him to come to the occasional team film night. They'd even watched some of his precious Doctor Who together. The radios were all tuned to the same station, some talk radio channel that she doubted Rip would even enjoy. The volume was always low, almost as if Rip hadn't really been listening to what was being said at all.

"Does this place strike you as somewhere Rip would be happy?" Sara asked Nate.

The historian shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't get to know him all that well before he left. He did seem to like old things, so I suppose it's not that much of a surprise to find he opened an antiques store."

"But up here…" said Sara, looking around at the space. "He's just got the bare basics. He hasn't even got any pictures on the walls or knickknacks on the shelves. It's just not really… him."

"Maybe he just hasn't got around to it yet," suggested Nate.

"I suppose," said Sara.

She didn't think that was the case though. Downstairs, the shop had been lovingly set up and ordered. He'd replaced the signs and refreshed the décor. The shelves in the rare book room were new, as were the light fittings. But when they'd come up the stairs to the apartment, things had been very different. There was some new furniture, but the carpets were clearly old and so were the curtains. No painting had been done, and the rooms seemed rather empty without much in the way of extra furnishings. Sara had gone to get a glass of water and found that Rip possessed exactly two of everything in the way of cutlery, glasses, plates and cups, although he had six tea spoons.

Then she went to the fridge and found milk that was about to go off, and a pile of ready meals. Which to be fair, was probably pretty much what Rip had lived off for years. You could substitute fabricated food for ready meals and it would basically be the same. She sighed. To her, it was all spelled out pretty clearly. He cared about the shop, but he couldn't care less about where he lived, and by extension, himself. He wasn't really living, he was existing.

She let out a long breath. She knew, now that she'd seen it, that she'd been wrong that the apartment could help them in any way.

"Guys, we're not going to find anything here," she said, looking back at Nate and Amaya.

"We haven't finished searching," said Amaya.

"Look at this place," she said, with a wave of her arm. "This isn't a home; it's just somewhere for Rip to sleep and eat when he isn't in the shop, or working with Team Flash. And there's absolutely nothing here that's linked to him being a time traveller. If there is anything to find, then he'd never leave it here."

Nate nodded. "I agree. Everything in the office is related to the business, and he's meticulous when it comes to filing his paperwork. It might look like a mess but he's actually got a pretty well-ordered system."

Sara gave Nate a nod of agreement. She wasn't surprised. Rip's study on the Waverider had been the same – full of junk but he could always find whatever he needed. She wouldn't admit it to the others, but she was now really worried about what had happened to their former Captain, and a dead end wasn't good news.

"So, what have we got left?" asked Amaya. "Do we still think he might have known something about whoever took him?"

Sara shook her head. "I don't think he saw it coming, but that doesn't mean he'd never encountered them before. I think we need to head over to STAR Labs and see what everyone else has found."

The three time travellers left the apartment and shop, and as they were doing so, Sara caught a glimpse of someone across the street. He appeared to be a tall, thin, pale skinned man, but there was something wrong about him that she couldn't quite put her finger on. For a moment she thought that he was watching them, but when she turned to look again, he was gone.

* * *

"I've circulated his description to missing persons. If anyone spots him, then they'll call it in," said Joe. "Have we got anything at all to go on?"

He was trying his best to ignore the presence of Mick Rory, who was leaning against the wall of the Cortex. He was also ignoring the large number of outstanding warrants against Heatwave, because now was not the time to be considering arresting one of the Legends, no matter how much of a wanted man they were.

"Nothing," said Barry, who had skidded to a halt only moments earlier.

"Yeah, me neither. We've run the entire city, and we can't find him," said Wally.

"Cisco, what about the camera footage?" asked Caitlin.

"Also nothing," said Cisco. His phone rang. "Huh, the caller ID says "Waverider". I didn't program _that_ into my phone." He put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Good evening, Mr Ramon," said Gideon.

"Gideon? How did you do that? Actually, never mind. Why are you calling?" asked Cisco.

"Is that Gideon?" asked Caitlin, equally surprised. Cisco nodded.

"Can you connect me to your network?" asked the AI. "Doctor Palmer and I have some things to share with the team."

"Yes, no problem. Bear with me a moment," said Cisco. He took the phone and plugged it into the computer. The monitors flickered and Ray appeared on the screen.

"Video link to the bridge. That is so Star Trek," said Cisco.

"I know. Hi there!" Ray said to everyone. "Okay, Gideon, can you bring up the video feed?"

"Hi Ray!" said Caitlin.

Sara, Nate and Amaya came into the room, looking somewhat disheartened. Sara did a double take at Ray being on the screen, which briefly amused Joe. She always seemed so composed, but apparently she was human too and could be surprised.

"Ray? How did you do that?" asked Sara.

"Actually, I did it, Captain Lance," said Gideon.

Sara smiled. "Of course you did, Gideon. Right, show us what you've got."

"Okay," said Ray. "So that interference pattern on the surveillance from Gideon's cameras. I'd actually seen it before, although it took me a while to work it out, because there are some small differences. Anyway, I had footage on my suit camera from when the Dominators kidnapped me and Sara, and the interference patterns are very similar. I think someone user a teleporter like the ones the Dominators had."

"A teleporter?" asked Joe, finding all of this somewhat unbelievable.

"Yeah, I'm going over Gideon's scans now to see if I can get a location for where it might have taken him, but right now, well, they have a huge range. Last time we got beamed up to a spaceship," Ray pointed out.

"Which means that he could be anywhere," said Barry, looking at Sara.

"I might be able to help with some number crunching," said Cisco. "Can Gideon send me the data?"

"Of course, Mr Ramon," replied Gideon.

"What if they've got him on a spaceship?" asked Nate. "Is there any way to find out if there's something up there?"

"We can check in with Argus," said Caitlin. "Maybe Lyla can help?"

Barry nodded. "I'll call her while you get to work on the teleporter data."

Joe looked around the room. Everyone looked disheartened and tired. "How long do you think this is going to take?"

Cisco shrugged. "I don't know. We've got an AI on our side but even she doesn't have unlimited processing power. We're probably looking at several hours' worth of data to be processed."

"Thank you for recognising that, Mr Ramon," said Gideon, somewhat pointedly.

Nate rolled his eyes, so Joe guessed that there was a history there.

"Maybe everyone who isn't needed right now should get some sleep," suggested Joe. "If Cisco and Ray find something then they can always let us know."

Caitlin was nodding. "We can make up some beds here or you can head back to the Waverider?"

Sara shook her head. "I'm going to go back to the Waverider and I'll move it to the parking lot. I'd rather have it closer right now. Mick, you're with me."

"Whatever you say, blondie," replied Mick.

"What about us?" asked Amaya. "There must be somewhere else that we can look?"

"Not until we know more," said Sara. "Once I've brought the Waverider in, you might as well all get some sleep. We can't help Rip if we're all worn out."

Joe realised that he was getting an insight into why Sara had ended up being the leader of the Legends. She was pragmatic, but also a surprisingly good organiser. The team seemed to listen to her and respect her. He watched Sara and Mick leave, and then everyone moved away to their respective assignments.

Joe headed over to where Barry was on his phone. Their eyes met as Barry continued the conversation.

"I know, sorry, but we need to know if you've detected any spaceships in the area," said Barry. He listened to the reply, nodding. "It might not have been an anomaly. Someone kidnapped Rip Hunter… he's one of the Legends… we think they used teleportation technology to do it. Do you have any idea where that anomaly ended up?"

Again, Joe watched as his son carefully took in the information that was given to him. His eyes widening slightly, and he gave Joe a meaningful look. It looked like they might have a lead.

"Thanks, Lyla. That's actually really helpful. Can you send the data to Cisco?... Okay… Thanks. I'll let you know how it goes."

Barry ended the call.

"That sounded like it might have been useful," said Joe.

"Yeah. It looks like Argus did detect an anomaly somewhere around Central City to the north, probably a few weeks ago, and one of the things that they considered was that it was a cloaked spaceship coming into land. Now, we know when the Waverider arrived and where it was parked, so it wasn't them. That makes it much more likely that it was whoever took Rip. The only problem is that the data was kind of vague and needs cleaning up for it to be any help," said Barry.

"Well, we have a couple of guys who should be able to manage that," said Joe, looking between Cisco and Ray on the screen.

"It's still going to take a while, and I don't think we're going to be getting any answers for a while. We don't know how much time Rip has," said Barry with exasperation. "They took him for a reason, and I have a really bad feeling about that."

Joe put a hand on Barry's shoulder. "All we can do is work with what we've got. I know you'll do your best to find him and get him back."

Barry nodded, acknowledging Joe's wisdom. He moved over to the desk, taking a seat behind one of the computers. He and Cisco began discussing with Ray the best way to process the data that Lyla was sending them. A few seconds after that, Martin Stein and Jefferson Jackson entered the Cortex, giving them a few more technically minded people to work on the problem.

Joe was as worried about Rip as the rest of the group, but at least they now had something to work with. If anyone was going to find the time traveller then it would be this group of people.

* * *

Rip woke up slowly, groggily, to find that the device on his chest was gone leaving an angry red mark behind it and he had been moved while he was unconscious. He was sat up with his hands cuffed with wide metal bands and attached to the wall by a metal ring. He could also feel something very uncomfortable in the back of his throat and nose. It took him a moment to work out that someone had inserted a tube into his nose and down into his stomach. He squinted in the direction the tube seemed to run and could see a bag of a greyish, thick liquid hung on a hook well above his head on the wall. The same substance ran down the tube and he didn't like the idea of whatever it was going into his stomach. He tried to jerk himself free of the tube, but it was well fixed in place, and nothing he did moved it even a millimetre, even awkwardly grabbing it with his cuffed hands and pulling.

He tried to get his legs under him and then to stand, but he didn't have enough strength to push himself up. The cuffs were also attached too low on the wall to allow him to get upright, even if he had been able to make it to standing.

He rested his head against the wall and resigned himself to putting up with the tube. It was better than whatever they'd been doing to him earlier. He had no idea what was in it, but he was hoping that it was just how they fed their prisoners. He did feel less queasy and sick than he had earlier, but no less exhausted and his limbs still ached. He at least had a bit more freedom now and could look around.

The room appeared to be a cell, with a door shaped line in the wall that was probably an entrance on the wall opposite to the one he was attached to. The walls were the same blue metal that the other room had been made of and the lighting was too bright for his tired eyes. There were more rings on the wall, presumably for shackling more unfortunates like him to. Just out of his reach, slightly further along he could see a dark-haired woman, slumped against the wall much as he was, also with a nasal tube snaking into her, a pouch of the same grey substance attached to it. Her eyes were closed and he could hardly detect the rise and fall of her chest, but it was there. She looked pale, sickly, and she was dressed in a brown uniform that he recognised. She was a Time Master, or at least a former Time Master.

"Hello!" shouted Rip, in the strongest voice he could manage. He coughed, which jarred the tube uncomfortably, and tried again. "Hey!"

The woman stirred and turned slightly towards him. "Captain Sophia Reese," he said, the name out of his mouth before his brain had a chance to process that he knew this woman. "Sophia!"

She pulled her eyes open, clearly with effort and it seemed to take her a while to focus. She frowned.

"Rip Hunter," she said, her voice as sickly as her appearance. "They got you too? The irony. The most wanted Time Criminal in all of time and space, and you end up here. You stopped moving, didn't you?"

"Yes, I'm thinking that was a mistake," replied Rip, ruefully. "Who are these people?"

"I'm surprised you haven't guessed…" she said, seeming to need to take a minute before she continued. "I suppose I never believed the bogeyman stories were real either."

Rip's forehead furrowed in thought, before the answer suddenly came to him. The thing which he'd been trying to grasp before and kept slipping away from him. "They're Strix? They can't be… they were just stories." Sophia just looked at him. "But that means that they're…"

Sophia gave him a tired look. "Yes, they're feeding off us. That's why they're keeping us alive. They rest us between feeding sessions so that we last longer. We're basically cattle, waiting to be slaughtered and my time is getting close."

Rip shook his head. "No, I have friends who will be looking for me. They'll come for us."

"Not in time," said Sophia. "I'm not sure how long you've got, but the next feed will kill me. I can hardly move now. I can feel the wrongness in my body. I saw it in the other prisoner they had before me. He got weaker and weaker until one day they just didn't bring him back."

She closed her eyes again, and shuddered. Rip could see that she was in pain, but there was nothing that he could do about it whilst he was cuffed to the wall. He needed to come up with a plan to get out of here and quickly, but he was weak himself. He tested the cuffs around his wrists, wondering if he could dislocate his thumb in the way that Sara seemed so adept at. The problem was that he'd have to dislocate both because of the way the cuffs were attached to the wall. Even then, he'd still have to get out of the cell, although they'd have to come for them at some point, so perhaps he could tackle their captors and escape. However, he would still have to free Sophia, and she wasn't in any shape to help him.

"How long have you been here?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she replied, eyes still closed. "A few days. I started counting how many times they fed me, but I lost track, and I've never seen daylight..." She faded away at the end and Rip thought she'd passed out again, but she might just have closed her eyes. He had to admit that he would quite like to do the same.

"Sophia, you have to hang on. I promise you, my friends will come for us, you just need to hold on," he said, aware that she probably couldn't hear him, but he felt it needed to be said. It had also helped to hear the words himself, because he could feel the beginnings of fear and panic rising in himself. He needed to believe that they really were looking for him and that he would be found if he couldn't get himself out of this. At least he'd called Caitlin before he was taken, so they'd be aware he was missing and would start looking for him immediately. It was about the only hope he had to cling to at the moment in this godawful place. Sara would come for him, she had to.

* * *

Sara had slept on the Waverider, or she had tried to anyway. She was far too worried about Rip to sleep properly. She really wished that he would stop getting himself kidnapped, but then she also really wished that he would just come back to the Waverider where she could keep a better eye on him. That didn't seem like something that was going to happen though. She couldn't remember being this concerned about anyone in quite some time, and it was an unpleasant revelation that Rip being in danger made her feel this way. Especially after their last argument.

She might even have to finally admit that she cared about what happened to Rip, something that she'd been trying to avoid ever since he'd left. There was a distinct possibility that Rip was already dead, and she was pushing that thought as far to the back of her mind as possible. It wasn't working terribly well, and every moment they failed to find a lead on him made her more anxious for his wellbeing.

"Gideon," she said, giving up on sleep and sitting up in bed. "Any news from STAR Labs?"

"Mr Ramon is still working on the data with Dr Palmer and Professor Stein. Tracking either the teleporter or the ship itself is proving to be quite challenging," said Gideon. "Everyone is quite frustrated."

"I bet they are," said Sara, with a sigh. Gideon had a gift for understatement.

She pushed the blankets off and dragged herself out of the bed. She went through her morning routine, letting the shower wake her up properly. She pulled on fresh clothes and set out for the galley, with the need for strong black coffee high in her thoughts.

She found Mick pouring coffee into a mug, with a box of cupcakes in his other hand.

"Is that breakfast?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not mine. Haircut's been working all night. He needs them," said Mick.

"At this point, he should probably just get some sleep," said Sara. "He'll work better if he isn't sleep deprived."

"Yeah, try telling _him_ that," grumbled Mick.

"Did you sleep?" asked Sara.

"Some," said Mick, casting Sara an annoyed look, as if she shouldn't have asked.

No one on the Waverider slept particularly well. Sara had her own batch of nightmares that would wake her, but Mick had practically given up on sleep since they'd retrieved him from the Time Masters. He didn't even have a bed in his room. He'd replaced it with a bench-press. The lack of sleep didn't seem to affect him terribly though, and Sara wasn't quite sure how he managed it.

Sara poured her own coffee, and Mick disappeared towards the bridge. She leaned against the counter top already regretting her decision to get up. Today was going to be a long day unless they got a lead soon.

"Gideon, are there any other instances in your databanks of Time Masters going missing with the same MO as this?"

"There are," said Gideon. "But generally, they have been dismissed as stories."

"Stories?" asked Sara.

"Young Time Masters were regaled with tales of aliens called the Strix who had once preyed upon a race of beings that lived in time in the same way that we live in space. They were known as the Keldar and travelled in time as easily as you might walk down a street. The Strix fed upon them and wiped out their entire race. In search of new prey, they began to look for other time travelling races to prey upon. It is said that occasionally they would take a Time Master who had been foolish enough to disobey the laws of time travel. This was a story supposed to scare young Time Masters into following the rules. It is unlikely that it was true."

"Then why mention it?" asked Sara.

"Because the Time Masters that were taken thought they were being watched and then were removed without a trace," said Gideon.

"Which is what happened to Rip," said Sara. "So maybe not so much of a fairy story after all."

"Captain Hunter mused on occasion that it was so outlandish that it must be based in fact," said Gideon.

"Are there any pictures of the Strix?" asked Sara.

"I believe Captain Hunter has a Time Master picture book in his quarters that has a depiction of them," said Gideon.

"A Time Master picture book?" asked Sara. "For some reason, I'd never really considered that might be a thing."

"The children at the Refuge began their temporal education early," said Gideon.

Sara pushed away from the counter, sipping her coffee, as she made her way through the corridors of the Waverider to Rip's quarters. She hadn't set foot in here for a while. She pressed the door release and was instantly reminded of the moment when she had stood in this doorway and watched him put his coat back on after his recovery from the brainwashing. She shook the memory away and went to the bookcase behind the desk.

"Any idea where the book is?" she asked.

"Third shelf up, fifth book along," said Gideon. "It is entitled "The Monster in the Timestream". I believe it was one of Captain Hunter's favourites."

Sara fingered her way along the books on the shelf, and pulled out a slim but colourful volume with a picture of an alarmingly familiar figure on the front. It was a pale man, perhaps more grotesquely drawn than Sara remembered the figure in the street to be. She gripped the book more tightly as a cold feeling of fear washed through her. She opened the book with care, it was dogeared and had clearly been read multiple times.

The first page had the kind of illustration that wouldn't have been out of place in any children's picture book. It showed a reasonable depiction of the green energy of the timestream and some sort of blue, octopus like animal that seemed to be having quite a lot of fun with more octopuses like itself.

"The Keldar lived long ago, in the timestream. Their days were great fun, or so it might seem," was the line of text across the top of the picture. Urgh, it was a rhyming picture book. She hated those. She turned the page to see another illustration of the strangely pale being that was on the front cover.

"But the Strix were hungry and the Keldar tasted good. The Strix kept eating all the Keldar that they could."

She turned the page again to a rather graphic drawing of a Strix shoving the poor Keldar into its gaping maw.

"Before long there were no Keldar left for the Strix to eat. They'd eaten them all, each one a special treat."

She wasn't at all sure that she liked this book. The Keldar were kind of cute and didn't deserve to be eaten. The following page showed a rather distraught looking, and thin, Strix.

"The Strix were hungry and starving for more, so they looked in the timestream for something else on which to gore."

She did not feel at all sorry for the Strix at this point. She flicked another colourful page over.

"They found a Time Master, not at his best, who'd broken the timeline just for a jest."

She did a double take. Did the coat that the Time Master in the book wore look a little familiar? Had the author of this book known that Rip would go rogue and drawn him as the naughty Time Master? There were moments when she really hated time travel. Also, she knew exactly where this was going and she felt a little unsettled. The next few pages detailed how the Strix chased the bad Time Master, and yet he managed to kill the monster, although because he'd ignored the rules of time travel it didn't have a happy ending exactly.

She flipped to the end.

"The Strix was no more, but the Time Master paid. He discovered that his own past had been unmade."

The unfortunate Time Master was seen to be vanishing, much as her aberration self had done. Yeah, she could see why baby-Rip had liked this book. It had monsters and detailed the perils of screwing up the timeline in pretty graphic detail. It would have been exactly the kind of thing that she would have seen him enjoying as he grew up. Still this certainly wasn't exactly proof that these were the people who had taken Rip, and she could imagine what the others would say when she told them that a character from a children's book had taken their former Captain.

She took the book and headed for the bridge. She needed to at least let the others know that she might have a lead.

She entered to see Ray munching on a cupcake, and downing coffee like it was going out of style. Mick was sat on the steps to the parlour, watching with mild amusement and eating his own cupcake.

"Please don't get crumbs in my circuits, Dr Palmer," said Gideon.

"Sorry, Gideon," said Ray, and took a step away from the console while he finished the small cake.

"How's it going?" asked Sara.

Ray shook his head. "The data set is huge and it took me all night to isolate the anomaly just so that we could track it, but now I can't seem to get it narrowed down to anything more than the north of Central City, which isn't much better than what Argus managed. Cisco's been looking at the teleporter signal data that Gideon collected, but he's not having much luck either. We need a way to pinpoint the ship."

Sara looked at Ray, seeing the frustration and annoyance at his inability to find their former team member pouring off him. He looked exhausted.

Gideon spoke. "Dr Snow is calling from STAR Labs."

"Put her through," said Sara. "Hi Caitlin."

"Good morning, Sara. We're thinking that this might go a bit more quickly if we bring Felicity Smoak in from Team Arrow. Unless you've got any objections, I'm sending Barry over to get her," said Caitlin.

"No objections here," said Sara. "But I think we might want to start sending people to get sleep in shifts. Ray's dead on his feet and we can't keep working forever."

"Yes, I agree," said Caitlin. "I've been trying to get Cisco to get some sleep for hours."

"Rip's out there and we don't know why they took him or what the hell's happening to him! We don't have time for sleep," said Cisco in the background, but loud enough that everyone heard him.

"And if you can't think properly then you're not going to be able to help him," said Caitlin. "Martin at least had the good sense to call it a night after he fell asleep at his desk."

"I'll sleep when Felicity gets here," said Cisco.

"Okay," said Sara. "Ray can get some sleep now and then hopefully he can take over for Cisco a bit later."

She looked pointedly at the inventor, who was giving her a decidedly stubborn look in return. "Don't make me order you, Ray," she said before he could utter the obligatory refusal.

"Sara…" he began.

"I don't want to hear it," she said. "Go."

Ray threw his hands up, crossly, and left the bridge without another word, leaving the box of cupcakes balanced rather precariously on the edge of the console.

"I'm coming over to STAR Labs with Mick. We'll see you soon," said Sara. "Gideon, end the call."

"We're going to STAR Labs?" asked Mick, with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Yes, I think Gideon might have given me a clue as to who took Rip, but I want everyone together," Sara said.

Mick shrugged. "Okay, let's go."

The two of them left the Waverider to find Barry in his Flash suit standing just outside the main entrance, next to a rather green looking Felicity.

"Sorry, that was just a bit further than we've done before," she said. "You've never run me all the way from Star City."

Barry was looking just a little guilty. "I'm so sorry, but we really need your help."

"It's okay. I just need a minute and then I'll be ready to jump in, well, not jump in, but definitely ready to do my thing," she said, taking a couple of deep breaths.

"Hi guys," said Sara.

"Sara!" said Felicity, "it's good to see you again."

"You too," replied Sara. "I'm really hoping you can help us."

"I'll do my best," said Felicity.

The group moved into STAR Labs where the sound of a loud argument could be heard from the research lab beside the Cortex. The door was open, so they couldn't exactly avoid listening in, even if they didn't really want to.

"I'm not an invalid. Why the hell didn't you wake me?" shouted Julian.

"Because there was nothing you could have done," replied Caitlin, equally crossly.

"He's my friend, Caitlin," said Julian. "I want to know when he's in trouble. I understand that I don't have superpowers like your other friends but I'm a CSI, I could have examined the crime scene at least."

"There really isn't much of a crime scene to examine," said Caitlin. "And you're still recovering and need proper sleep."

Julian let out an exasperated groan. "That's hardly the point. This is an emergency."

"We were already doing everything we possibly could. There really was no point in calling you in," said Caitlin. "I'm also allowed to worry about my boyfriend."

"Caitlin! I'm getting better. I'm going to be fine," said Julian, his tone softening slightly.

"But you're not fine yet," replied Caitlin, equally softly. "And I just didn't want you going out on your own to come here."

"Ah, Caitlin… I'm here, safe with you," said Julian.

Sara tried to ignore the silence that followed that, and she definitely didn't pay any attention to the slightly rumpled appearance of Caitlin and Julian when they appeared in the Cortex a few minutes later. Then Felicity was greeted and brought up to speed on what was going on, so it took everyone a little time to get settled and back to business.

"Give me the run-down of what we've got," said Sara, looking at a rather tired and dishevelled Cisco.

Cisco pushed hair away from his face and got down to issue at hand. "Well, we cleaned up all the data that we were able to collect. The energy signatures that the Waverider picked up don't quite match with the Dominator technology, but they're definitely teleporters of some kind. And we're fairly certain that a cloaked ship landed to the north of the city, but we're still having trouble working out exactly where. It definitely doesn't use the same tech as the Waverider, but there has to be a way of tracking it."

"Okay," said Felicity, cracking her knuckles. "I've brought some programs that I think can help with cleaning up the data and triangulating the teleporter beam. I know the Dominators are gone, but I did wonder if one day someone with something similar might be back… so I may have prepared a little something for that joyous day."

"Nice work," said Cisco, offering her a high five, which she returned with a grin.

Martin Stein wandered back into the lab, rubbing his eyes. "And I think I dreamt of a way to narrow down the search for our cloaked ship. We've been going about this the wrong way. We've been looking for a radiation signature or some other leaked energy from the ship, but I think we need to look for what's not there. Everywhere in Central City is giving off a low background radiation. Potentially a cloaked ship performs its task too well and blocks that out too. That gives us a way to track it."

"I didn't understand any of that, but if you think it'll work, great," said Sara.

Barry was nodding, and clearly had understood. "I'll help you, Professor, that sounds like it could work and we've probably got the equipment here in STAR Labs to make a detector, although we might need a way to boost the power."

"We can work on that as we go," said Martin.

"I might have some ideas on that, actually," said Julian.

"Well, the more heads the better on this," said Martin. "We could probably use Raymond on this too."

"He's gone beddy-bye for now," said Mick, gruffly. "He was running on fumes."

"Gideon can send him over when he's awake," said Sara. "There's something else I need to tell you. I think I might have an idea of who we're up against."

She explained about the Time Master story of the Strix, and how they were said to take Time Masters and then disappear. That part got some nods from around the room.

"Rip had a children's book about them," she said, and showed it to the group. "I think it's sort of like normal fairy tales, except this is a cautionary tale for young Time Masters."

"A what?" asked Cisco, coming over to examine the item. She handed it to him. She could see Mick frowning at the book, which he apparently hadn't noticed Sara carrying until now.

"And I saw a strange man outside Rip's apartment last night, who looked a lot like that guy on the front cover," said Sara. "I think they're still stalking us."

"Damn right, blondie," said Mick. "One of them was hanging around outside STAR Labs last night too."

"That can't be good," said Caitlin, looking between Sara and Barry.

"I agree," said Barry. "I don't want anyone going out alone, not until we've dealt with these aliens, assuming that's what they actually are, and we've found Rip."

Sara nodded, as Martin, Julian and Barry left to find somewhere to work. Felicity began typing and Caitlin chased Cisco out of the lab to get some sleep now that Felicity was here to take over for a bit. Sara looked around the lab. She wasn't needed here, but she wanted to keep busy.

She tapped her com. "Gideon, can you send me all the information you have on the Strix, fairy tales included."

"I will transfer the data to one of the STAR Labs computers," replied Gideon.

Sara sat down to read and she didn't like what she read at all.

* * *

They came for them again and Rip didn't know how many hours had passed, although he knew it had been several. He'd fallen asleep at some point, but the door opening woke him because his sleep was shallow and it didn't take much to jerk him awake. He wouldn't be able to rest properly whilst he was under constant threat, despite his tiredness. The two of them came in together and then removed the nasal tube in a rather horrible manoeuvre that made Rip gag and cough. Sophia was subjected to the same procedure.

He'd tried getting free of the cuffs earlier, but they'd been too tight to get out of even with dislocating a thumb. He'd ended up popping the joint back in place before his captors had returned, just so that he was in slightly less pain. He only had one option, and it wasn't a good one. As soon as they uncuffed him from the wall, he surged upwards. He smashed one of the Strix on the nose, and was gratified with the pained yelp that he got. Apparently, their blood was blue and not red, which was something of a revelation, admittedly not a terribly helpful one at the moment.

He slammed his elbows into the other Strix as he came in to grab him, and his attacker stumbled backwards. But Strix One was coming back towards him with dire intent written across his face. Rip suspected that he'd just succeeded in making Strix One angry and not much else. He dodged out of the way of a fairly uncoordinated punch, but his strength was fading. He was running entirely on adrenaline and it wouldn't hold him up much longer. Strix Two grabbed him from behind and held on whilst Strix One handcuffed him once more, placing the dreaded hand upon his chest. He went limp, the cold and sickly feeling once more spreading across his body. He wasn't unconscious, but he'd lost any ability to form coherent thought or keep himself from collapsing to the floor. So much for his escape attempt.

He was taken back to the room with the tables and the restraints. They reattached the device to his chest and the second time they fed on him was worse than the first. The pain was greater and Sophia was screaming in agony. She was dying and he knew it. He hadn't been able to save her, and it was all he could do not to weep openly. He managed to shout a couple of curses at the monsters who were killing her, but it didn't really help either of them in the long run.

He woke up alone in the cell, with a new bag of grey fluid dripping down the feeding tube. Strix One was looking at him with what he was taking to be dislike. His nose had a silver piece of material across it, which pleased Rip inordinately because it meant that he'd hurt the bastard enough that the wound needed some kind of treatment.

"You killed her," he said, simply. "I can promise that, even if it's the last thing I do, you'll pay for that."

The Strix looked at him with his dark blue eyes. "You're too weak for that," he said. The words were barely understandable, and the voice was deep and foreboding, like treacle mixed with poison. "But don't be sad. We'll get you a new friend. Another time traveller."

Rip's eyes widened. "No," he spat. "You leave them alone."

The Strix emitted a noise, and it took Rip a few moments to work out what was happening. He was being laughed at.


	6. Reserves of Energy

Peace and Space

Chapter 6 - Reserves of Energy

* * *

Sara got Ray to come over to STAR Labs, since that was where all the action seemed to be and Gideon could send any data they needed across from the Waverider. In fact, one by one, the entire team had ended up in the STAR Labs Cortex. Some of them were being more helpful than others. Nate was using Gideon's database to research the Strix with Sara, Ray was working with Cisco, Caitlin, and Felicity, Jax was helping Martin with some kind of scanning equipment, whilst Mick was eating the contents of Team Flash's kitchen.

An entire day passed, people went to sleep in shifts and then continued on with their work. No one suggested giving up the search. It felt like they were getting close. Sara was running on about five hours sleep, adrenaline, and strong coffee by the time the night of the second day approached. Rip had now been missing for over forty-eight hours and her anxiety levels had long since plateaued, unable to get any higher. They now sat in the background disturbing her sleep and making it hard to concentrate.

It wasn't just her though. Tempers were wearing thin. Lily Stein had been called and was now working beside her father, Barry and Julian on some kind of algorithm to track the absence of background radiation. Felicity and Ray were working on picking up any kind of teleporter signal, but still hadn't managed any kind of triangulation of the last signal detected. Cisco had complained only moments ago that they were running out of new things to try, but he was half way to completing a device that might disrupt the teleportation ability of the Strix.

"Oh how could I have been so stupid!" exclaimed Martin, suddenly.

"It's not your fault, Dad," said Lily. "The data was obfuscated at best."

"Underwater!" said Martin. "The craft we're looking for is underwater."

"What?" asked Sara.

And then alarms were sounding.

"Guys," said Felicity. "I think we just picked up another transporter signal."

"Where?" asked Sara.

"Er, here," said Felicity. "They're right outside STAR Labs."

"Oh, this is good," said Cisco, "we can track that, if we…"

"…we used Martin's data to eliminate the background radiation," finished Caitlin.

"Exactly," said Cisco, typing furiously.

"Great, you work on that while I go and talk to our new friends," said Sara, taking out her staff and extending it to its full length. "Barry, Mick, Amaya, Nate, you're with me."

She received nods of acknowledgement from her team and Barry.

"Wait!" shouted Cisco. "Take the trackers. Then if any of you get snatched like Rip, we'll be able to find you." Cisco grabbed a box from his desk that he opened to reveal small glass beads with electronics inside them. They were about the size of a pea and had a pin on the back that would attach to their clothing.

"Barry's got his suit tracker," said Cisco, "but the rest of you don't, so better safe than sorry."

"Good idea," said Sara, and attached one to the underside of the hem of her t-shirt.

The other members of the team followed suit.

"Where did that teleporter signal land?" asked Barry.

"Right outside the front door," said Felicity.

"Convenient," said Sara. "I'm getting the feeling that this is a trap."

Barry nodded. "But I don't think they know who they're up against. Let's go with a classic flanking manoeuvre?"

Sara nodded. "Good idea. Let's go."

The Legends walked out of the front door, while Barry zoomed away. They were confronted by two tall, pale skinned beings, who had elongated faces with sunken features, and wore dark suits. One had what looked like a silver plaster across his nose

"You're the Strix, right?" asked Sara.

"Only the Time Masters call us such," said what she was going to refer to as "Strix One". His voice was hard on her ears, buzzing, dark and hollow. The words weren't formed quite correctly so she had to struggle to work them out. "Your brain couldn't comprehend our true name."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Huh, even bad guy time travelling aliens are arrogant." She twirled her staff. "You took a friend of ours. Where is he?"

"The butcher does not tell the cattle what happens to them," said Strix Two, the one with the plaster on his nose.

That was ominous. "If you've killed him, then I can promise you will pay for that, and I will make sure the remainder of your life hurts like you'd never believe possible."

"He lives," said Strix One. "For the moment."

She wouldn't give it away, but internally she was relived. It wasn't too late. They could still save Rip. Although the "for the moment" was definitely worrying.

"But we need another," said Strix Two.

"Not a chance," said Mick.

The Strix suddenly turned as one towards Mick, and their deep blue eyes seemed to develop a hunger. "You. You're almost as good as the one we have. You would feed us for days. Another fine catch."

Sara shook her head. "No way, you're not taking anymore of us. This ends here."

"We do not need your permission," said Strix One.

"I think you'll find you do," said Nate, steeling up and stepping into the space next to Sara.

Amaya pressed the totem at her neck and there was a roar as a blue lion appeared. Mick's gun was out and then a plume of fire was being aimed at the Strix. But the Strix wasn't where it was a moment ago. It had vanished and suddenly it was in front of Mick. It touched Mick on the chest with a glowing hand and the arsonist fell to his knees, with a surprised look on his face.

"Delicious," said the Strix.

A blur of red and yellow lightning zipped into view and the Strix was knocked to the ground, and Mick collapsed sideways. Sara didn't like the look of that. Barry could have just saved Mick's life, because whatever the Strix had done it didn't look pleasant. Mick was pushing himself up from the ground slowly, but she didn't have time to check him over right now. Strix Two was now in front of her and Barry was zipping back around as Strix One vanished from the ground to stand behind her. Barry missed catching him as he disappeared too quickly this time, and Sara felt a cold, sick sensation spread through her body.

She realised that she was paralysed, unable to cry out or turn, and the staff dropped from her hands. Was this what they'd done to Rip? It would explain the phone and gun that they'd found dropped on the ground. It felt horrible, like she was ill and too small for her body. Then the world faded out around her.

* * *

Sara came to in a cell, feeling slightly nauseous and still strangely cold. The room was all metal, glinting bluishly under harsh light, and she was sat on the floor, tightly cuffed to the wall. They'd taken her jacket, but the rest of her clothes were intact. That hopefully meant they hadn't found the tracker on her t-shirt yet either. Unfortunately, she couldn't check with her hands cuffed.

She had been awake for a while when they dragged an unconscious Rip into the cell. He was cuffed at his wrists and wearing only his white shirt, dark trousers and boots. He looked terrible. He was pale, almost sickly, and his eyes were sunken. He also had a very peculiar red mark on his chest, which she could see because his shirt buttons had been ripped open to half way down his sternum.

They attached his cuffs to the ring on the wall and snapped it closed, locking it down. A moment later one of the pale creatures returned with a bag of grey liquid and a tube. She watched as they proceeded to insert the tube into Rip's nose, making him gag and moan uncomfortably even in his unconscious state.

"Hey, leave him alone!" she shouted, but was ignored.

They attached the bag of liquid to the wall above him on a hook which had definitely been placed there for this exact purpose, and then they left them.

He was a little too far out of reach for her to touch him with her toe. His head hung downwards, chin on his chest in what looked like a very uncomfortable pose, especially with his arms wrenched upwards and sideways by the cuffs. He'd been propped against the wall as best as they could manage, with his legs splayed out in front of him.

"Rip!" shouted Sara, trying to wake him up, even though she knew it was most likely futile. "Rip! Come on, I'm fed up with being on my own in here." She let out a frustrated sigh.

This was not a good situation, and she needed to know if he was okay, or at least how badly off he was. Unconsciousness was rarely a good thing, and he didn't look like he'd been having a fun time here. He was too pale and, although she couldn't say exactly why, he just looked ill.

It was quite a while before he began to stir, and show signs of returning to consciousness.

"Rip?" she asked.

His head rolled towards her voice and bloodshot eyes opened in her direction. They fell shut again and he let out a low moan, more a pained exhalation than any kind of conscious exclamation.

"Rip!" she tried, louder this time. "Wake up! I need you awake."

Again, his head rolled against the wall, as if it was too heavy for him to hold up. He breathed in deeply and his eyes opened again. This time he blinked and seemed to try to focus on her, his forehead furrowing.

"Sara?" he asked, as if he didn't believe it was her. His voice sounded tired, exhausted, in fact.

"Took your time, Rip," she replied, trying to get as close as she could to him. She wanted to check him over, take his pulse, make sure that he wasn't injured, but she couldn't when she was cuffed to the wall.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, so quietly that she found it hard to hear him.

"For what?"

"The Strix came for _me_ , but then they realised other time travellers were here. I think they can sense us somehow, like a dog following a scent," said Rip, his eyes looked up at the ceiling, his head resting against an arm. He seemed to be having trouble just staying awake.

"They wanted Mick, I was just a consolation prize," said Sara.

"Well, of course. He was Chronos," said Rip, tiredly. "He was travelling the timestream for years, building up temporal energy. Apparently, I was a good catch. An entire life's worth of time travel."

"I found your picture book," said Sara.

He frowned at her, looking in her direction again. "Picture book?" she asked.

"Yes, the one about the Strix," said Sara.

"Ah," he said, and his eyes closed.

"Rip! Stay awake," said Sara. "Rip!"

Her voice jerked him back to consciousness. He pulled a little hard against the cuffs and winced, but at least he was awake again.

"Did you enjoy the book?" he asked, blinking.

"It had its moments. The Strix seem to be bastards," said Sara. "What did they do to you?"

"Fed on me," said Rip.

"You look like you've still got all your limbs attached," said Sara, she'd expected worse to be honest.

Rip shook his head slowly and with great effort. "They feed on the life force energy of time travellers. They're energy vampires. I honestly thought they were a myth."

"Well, they're not, so we'd better work out how to get out of here," said Sara.

"I tried when they came for me the second time, but I only succeeded in giving Strix One a broken nose, and making them rather angry," said Rip.

"That was you? Nice," said Sara. "And it's Strix _Two_ that has the broken nose."

He rolled his eyes at that. "Can we not argue? I don't have the energy."

"Yeah, we need to get out of here," replied Sara.

"I don't think I'm going anywhere. I'm already too weak to stand without help. I'll only slow you down. You'd be better trying this alone," said Rip, leaning heavily onto the wall.

"I came to find you, so I'm not leaving without you," said Sara.

"You're far too stubborn for your own good sometimes," said Rip, his eyes falling shut again.

"Rip, don't you dare fall asleep on me! The team are looking for us. I don't know how long I was unconscious, but there's a good chance that they're already on their way," said Sara.

Rip dragged his eyelids open again with more effort than should have been required. "Sorry, 'm tired…"

"I know, but I need you to tell me how long we have before they come back," said Sara.

"How long was I unconscious for?" he asked, purposefully pulling on his cuffs.

"Probably a couple of hours or so," said Sara. "You're going to hurt yourself doing that."

"I know," said Rip, breathing hard with exertion.

"Then stop doing it," she said.

"Pain releases adrenaline into the body. It'll help me stay awake long enough to be useful," he said.

Sara nodded in understanding, however she was worried now. If he needed to cause himself pain to stay awake then that wasn't a good sign at all.

"Right. Answer the question. How long until they need to feed again?"

Rip gritted his teeth and gave a final pull, and she could see that he'd drawn blood. "Okay, I think we've got four hours then. They seem to come every six hours, sometimes it's a little longer."

Sara frowned. She didn't want to ask her next question, but she had to know. "When they feed, it's not pleasant is it?"

Rip seemed to hesitate and then shook his head, looking only slightly more alert. He leaned against the wall again. "I really hope you don't have to experience it."

Sara had also done some mental arithmetic. "You've been here two days. That means you've been through it eight times."

Rip gave a shrug, not meeting her eyes. "Let's see if we can avoid a ninth. What's your plan?"

"First of all, get out of these cuffs," said Sara, dislocating a thumb with a groan. Wow, that hurt.

"I already tried that," said Rip.

"Yeah, but my hands are smaller than yours," said Sara.

It was tight and definitely not comfortable, but she managed to pull her hand through. She popped the thumb back in with a sigh. It would ache but it would be useable. Then she performed the same operation with the other hand.

"Huh," said Rip, in a surprised tone. "I really didn't think that would work."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Come on, this is me." She got to her feet, brushing off non-existent dust from her jeans. "Let's get you out of here."

"As already established, I can't do what you just did," said Rip.

"Yeah, and we still need to get out of this cell even once you're out of the cuffs," said Sara. "Maybe we can just detach you from the wall."

She came over to Rip and put a hand to his neck, feeling his pulse. It was on the fast side and not quite regular. He felt cold to her touch and the closer she got the more sickly he looked. He'd said he didn't think he could walk without help and she believed him, he could hardly keep his head up. This was going to be more difficult than she'd thought.

She met his eyes, and could see the tiredness in him.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm not much use."

"It's not your fault," said Sara. She examined the metal ring that the cuffs were run through. It snapped shut with some kind of lock, and if there was a lock then it could be picked. She just needed something to do the picking with.

"I don't suppose you've got a set of lock picks on you," she said.

"I'm afraid not," he replied.

Then she remembered the tracking device pin that Cisco had given her. She lifted the hem of her shirt and it was still there. She unhooked it.

"What's that?" asked Rip.

"Tracking device," said Sara, "Cisco's idea. Hopefully being locked onto right now."

She took the pin to the lock, prying the small gap wider and then feeling for the locking catch. A click gave it away, and then she manipulated it to disengage the latch. It sprung open freeing Rip's cuffs and he slumped against the wall as one of the things that had been holding him up gave way.

He let out a pained exhalation of breath.

"Sorry!" she said, helping him sit with his back to the wall. The feeding tube was still attached and she wasn't sure what to do about that.

"I'm okay," replied Rip, leaning back. She didn't say that he was clearly anything but okay. They both knew that and there was no need to call attention to it.

She examined the cuffs around his wrists, but couldn't find any sort of seam that she could use to pick them. His hands now rested on his lap, and he hadn't moved them from where they'd fallen.

"I don't think I can get these off without a key," said Sara.

"They have a remote control they use to undo them," said Rip, "and the wall hook too, but apparently that was easily pickable."

"What about the grey goop?" she asked. "Do you know what it is? Can I just pull the tube out or would that hurt too much?"

"I think they're trying to feed me to keep me alive longer," said Rip. "The tube seems to adhere to my skin, but I think there's a button on the bag that releases it. It's not comfortable, taking it out, but it's bearable and I'd quite like to be rid of it."

Sara nodded. She stood and examined the bag, quickly finding the button he'd mention. She pressed it and the tube fell away from Rip's skin slightly. She crouched down beside him, once again meeting his eyes.

"Ready?" she asked, putting a hand on the tube.

"Do it," he said.

She tugged and he gagged miserably, but then it was out and he was coughing. She let the grey liquid splat on the floor, as she dropped the tube, leaving it to hang straight down and rubbed him on the back, hoping to at least soothe some of the hurt. His breathing began to return to normal.

"Rip, if we're going to get out of here, I need an honest assessment. Do you think you can walk if you lean on me?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said. "I've got no strength. I might manage a few steps, but I'm not even certain of that."

Sara let out a defeated sigh. "Well, we'll just have to hope that's enough."

"The wisest course of action would be for you to leave me," said Rip.

Sara gave him an annoyed look. "Give it up, Rip. You know I'm not doing that."

"You may have no choice," said Rip, with a fatalism that she didn't appreciate.

"One problem at a time," said Sara. "Any idea how they open the door?"

"Another remote control I think. There's a seam in that wall," he said, raising his hands slightly to indicate the wall opposite.

Sara approached the wall, she felt across the smooth blue hued metal. Her fingers brushed across the line in the metal that indicated the door was there. She considered it for a moment and sighed. There was no obvious mechanism, and she couldn't even tell which way it opened. It didn't look like this was the way she was going to get them out of here. She turned back around to find Rip's eyes had fallen shut again. She let out a longer and more heartfelt sigh. She needed to get him out of here and back to the Waverider.

It was then that she felt a vibration through the floor. The tracking device, still in her hand, began to glow. A small smile spread across her lips. Their friends had come for them. She went back to Rip, it wouldn't be long now.

She put a hand on his shoulder and shook him awake. She tried not to be too rough. She still had no idea what the Strix's feeding had done to him.

"Rip?" she asked.

He rolled his head around, and opened his eyes, blinking at her. "Sorry. Didn't mean to fall asleep again." His voice sounded as tired as he looked.

"Rip, they're here," she said, and revealed the glowing tracking device in her hand.

His eyes widened slightly. Then there was the sound of one of Cisco's portals opening behind her, and she turned to see Cisco and Ray in his Atom suit.

"Yes!" said Cisco. The portal shut behind the two of them. He touched his ear, probably speaking into a com. "We found them."

"Good to see you too," said Sara. "We need to get Rip out of here and back to the Waverider."

Rip attempted to wave off her concern with his still cuffed hands, but he really didn't look at all good.

"Yeah, slight snag there," said Ray, with a little bit of a worried look.

"Why am I not surprised?" murmured Rip.

"Something's stopping me from opening portals into and out of the ship," said Cisco.

"How did you get here then?" asked Sara, noting that apparently they had been right about there being an alien ship.

"We brought the jump-ship in, docked, and Barry phased us through the walls," said Ray. "Firestorm are creating a distraction while we get you guys out."

"Okay, what are we waiting for?" asked Sara. "Help me get Rip on his feet."

"Right," said Ray, going to help Sara. Between the two of them they got Rip upright, but she felt the way that he leant heavily on her and Ray. They only made it a couple of steps before Rip seemed unable to take another. She could hear his breathing becoming harsher and more laboured. He swayed, as Ray and Sara tried to keep him upright.

"Rip?" asked Sara, sensing that something was very wrong. Then his head lolled forwards and suddenly he was a dead weight in her and Ray's arms. "Rip! Come on, you can't fall asleep now."

"I think he's unconscious," said Ray, taking the weight with some adjustment to his footing. "What did they do to him?"

"Nothing good," said Sara. "Cisco, portal us as close to the jump-ship as you can get."

"Yeah, I can do that," said Cisco. He held out his hand and Sara and Ray managed to carry an unconscious Rip through, where Barry was waiting for them. They appeared to be in a corridor.

Barry immediately looked worried when he saw Rip. "What happened?" he asked.

"I'll explain when we're not here," said Sara. "Rip needs medical attention now."

Barry put a hand to his ear. "Firestorm, we need to leave. Get back to the jump-ship."

"What about the Strix?" asked Sara.

"We've got a plan, but we really need them to both be in one place," said Cisco.

"I've tried to lure them in, but they're teleporting all over the place," said Barry. "Either we can stay here and try again, or we get Rip back to the Waverider. I don't think we can do both."

"Maybe we can disable their engines once we're on the Waverider," said Ray. "That'll give us time to come back and capture them."

Sara nodded. She didn't want to have to face these beings again or have them prey on other unsuspecting time travellers, but Rip's health came first and he needed the medbay five minutes ago.

Then, suddenly, Strix Two with the broken nose was in front of her and had a hand on her chest before she'd realised what had happened. The cold, sick feeling spread across her body, her heartbeat was loud in her ears, and she sank to her knees, taking Rip down with her. A flash of light indicated that Barry had hit the Strix, who fell against the corridor wall, with the speedster stood in front of him.

Firestorm zoomed around a corner. "Sorry we're late, these guys are fast."

Sara was beginning to understand why Rip had been so tired. One touch from those things had been enough to sap her strength again. She felt awful, but at least was still conscious. She pushed herself into a crouch, but felt a little dizzy at the swift movement.

Strix One appeared and this time in front of Ray. Sara launched herself at him, just as he was about touch Ray. He probably hadn't considered her to be a threat because he didn't disappear this time, and she bowled him to the ground. She punched Strix One on the jaw and dodged out of the way of his grip. She didn't feel terribly good, but the adrenaline of the fight was carrying her onwards.

Then the Strix appeared to try to teleport and it shuddered like an old recording. Sara backed away a little, and she could see that Cisco had activated a device that he was holding. The Strix just looked annoyed.

"You are prey. You're ours. You don't fight back," said Strix One.

"Wrong on all three counts," said Sara and smacked the Strix across the face. The alien fell backwards and into the wall, unconscious.

She turned around to see Ray checking Rip's pulse, and Barry dealing with the other Strix. Both the aliens were down and showed no signs of getting up. Sara let out a sigh of relief and her legs buckled under her again.

"Sara!" shouted Jax.

"I'm okay," she said, trying not to prove herself wrong and just pass out. "We need to get Rip to the medbay."

"Yeah, you too," replied Ray.

"Argus can handle this pair," added Cisco. "Barry, can you phase us back through to the jump-ship? I can vibe them over to Lyla from there."

Sara tried to get to her feet again and found that she couldn't. Nausea was washing over her in dark, sickly waves. She tipped sideways having to put a hand out to stop herself from ending up in a heap on the ground. How many times did Rip say he'd been through this? She really found it hard to think about what they'd done to him.

Firestorm were beside her without her even noticing their approach. "You don't look so good."

"I don't feel so good," she replied. "Help me up. The sooner we get out of here the better."

Jax nodded and pulled her to her feet, where she did her best to fall back down again. Jax and Martin split apart and Jax got Sara moving, letting her lean on him without comment, while Martin went to help Ray with Rip. Sara was worried about her former Captain. She'd never seen him look so pale before and he was showing no signs of waking up.

"One of the Strix should have got a remote control that will open his cuffs," said Sara.

Barry searched the Strix quickly and came up with something that was probably what they needed. Some button pressing revealed the right combination to undo the cuffs. They left them lying on the ground.

After that, things blurred into bundling back onto the jump-ship, Cisco vibing the Strix and Barry to Argus, and then onto the Waverider, where she and Rip were deposited in the Medbay. For once, Sara was glad to lie down on the medbay couch. She felt so tired that she could sleep for a week and even that didn't feel like it would be enough. Martin attached the medical cuff to her wrist while Jax did the same for Rip.

The blue lights of Gideon's scan flickered over her two patients.

"What's the verdict, Gideon?" Sara asked.

"You are suffering from exhaustion, Captain Lance. You have a corresponding imbalance in your brain chemistry, which I am correcting. You should feel much better after sleeping, and I recommend trying to eat something soon. I suggest you rest in medbay overnight to allow me time to complete treatment."

Sara nodded. "Whatever you say, Gideon." She looked to her left. "What about Rip?"

"Captain Hunter's condition is critical. He is currently in a coma and his body has exhausted all reserves of energy. I am attempting to restore his cell function and re-balance his body chemistry. Cardiac arrest is a significant risk. Please have the defibrillator on hand and put the Captain on oxygen."

"What!" said Sara, with horror. Even she hadn't thought it was that bad.

Martin was looking at the screen which showed Rip's vital signs, and immediately started to ready the required items in case they were needed. "Jax, could you sort out the oxygen, please."

Jax nodded, going to the cupboard that held the supplies.

"I don't understand," said Sara, "he was talking to me in the cell. He was tired, but he was awake."

"He's very weak," said Martin. "His pulse is erratic, and he's barely breathing. It looks like his body was attacked at a cellular level. I've honestly never seen anything like this."

"He said that they were energy vampires," said Sara.

"That does explain a lot," said Martin. "They were literally sucking the life out of him."

Jax placed the oxygen mask over Rip's nose and mouth, and Sara felt something twinge in her chest. It wasn't a symptom of her condition, it was worry over Rip. She was concerned about him and it was more than as just her team mate and former Captain. She should never have let him leave. He was far too good at finding trouble. At least when he was on the Waverider she could keep an eye on him.

She was so tired and she wished she wasn't stuck on the medbay couch right now. She wanted to be next to him and there in case something happened, but she couldn't be until she could at least stand without collapsing. It was so unfair. She needed to talk to him and clear the air between them, but instead here they were, lying side by side in the medbay. He was so ill that Gideon thought his heart might stop, and she was too exhausted to move. She wanted to scream, except she didn't have the energy.

"Sara, you need to sleep," said Martin, in a kindly tone. "It's the best way to help Gideon treat you."

"Professor Stein is correct," said Gideon.

She frowned and let out an annoyed sigh. It was never good when Gideon decided to gang up with her crew. "I'll try, but wake me if Rip gets any worse."

"Of course," said Martin.

Sara closed her eyes and was very surprised to find that sleep came easily, despite her anxiety. She briefly had time to wonder if Gideon was giving her a helping hand before she lapsed into uncomfortable dreams of Rip being always just out of her reach.

* * *

Caitlin had finally let herself breathe again when Cisco reported in that they had retrieved Sara and Rip, and everyone was back on the Waverider. She'd been concerned to hear that Rip hadn't looked good though. At least his device to stop the Strix teleporting had worked and the aliens were now safely locked up at Argus. They were trying to work out how to deal with the ship now. Cisco was wondering if they could just leave it underwater.

The Waverider landed in the parking lot, and Caitlin headed out to meet them. She knew her way to the medbay and found Martin and Jax there already, both sat in uncomfortable looking chairs with their eyes on the vitals monitors. Both Sara and Rip were asleep on the couches.

"Hi, how are they doing?" she asked.

"Dr Snow," said Martin. "It's good to see you. Sara's recovering nicely, but I'm afraid Mr Hunter isn't looking quite so good."

Caitlin came over to look at Rip's vitals and she frowned. "You've got him on a glucose IV?"

"Amongst other things," said Gideon. "The contents of his stomach indicate that his captors were feeding him a substance which was high in sugars and probably kept him from dropping into a hypoglycaemic coma."

Caitlin was very concerned. "That doesn't sound like it was much fun him."

"I don't believe it was," said Gideon. "The red mark on his chest appears to be the feeding site, and has the most cell degradation. I am attempting to restore normal bodily function."

There was a pause and then Gideon said. "Please ready the defibrillator. Captain Hunter is showing signs of imminent cardiac arrest."

"I think you arrived just in time," said Jax to Caitlin, handing her the paddles of the defibrillator.

"It looks that way," said Caitlin, rather sadly.

"They're charged," said Martin, checking the display.

An alarm sounded. "Captain Hunter is in cardiac arrest. I am administering adrenaline, please administer the shock at the appropriate moment."

"I understand, Gideon," said Caitlin. Hopefully the adrenaline would get the heart beating again and then it would be a simple matter of shocking the heart back into sinus rhythm.

She kept an eye on the monitor and then she placed the paddles on Rip's chest. Gideon's drugs did what was required and Caitlin pressed the button that would shock her patient. Rip's back arched and then he fell back on the bed. She eyed the monitor and breathed out a sigh of relief as the heart trace stabilised.

"Well done, Doctor Snow," said Gideon. "Captain Hunter's heart is back in normal sinus rhythm."

"What's the likelihood of it happening again, Gideon?" asked Caitlin.

"Still unacceptably high," said Gideon. "Hopefully further rest and cell regeneration will reduce the risk considerably. I will inform you if his condition deteriorates further."

"I guess I'm staying here tonight then," said Caitlin.

"I think we'd all appreciate that," said Martin.

"Yeah, I'm glad you were here to do that," said Jax, looking concerned. "I'm happy to leave stuff like that to the medical professionals."

Caitlin gave him a smile. "It can look a bit frightening, but hopefully we won't need it again. He just needs to get stronger and Gideon's doing everything she can to make that happen."

Caitlin took Rip's hand in hers and gave it a pat. "I know you probably can't hear this, but you hang in there. I've got pain-au-chocolat waiting for you when you're feeling better."

"And jellybeans," said Jax. "They'd actually probably be pretty good for you right now."

"Absolutely, Mr Jackson," said Gideon.

Caitlin smiled at Jax, and then turned back to her comatose friend. "We're okay with you sleeping for now, but don't take too long to come back to us."


	7. Drifting Backwards

Peace and Space

Chapter 7 - Drifting Backwards

* * *

Sara awoke in the medbay to find that Caitlin had arrived and she was sat beside Rip. She had a book open and was reading. Someone had placed a blanket over Rip and tucked it around him, it was one of the silver ones, supposed to be thermally sensitive to the patient's body temperature. She frowned.

"Are we back in Central City?"

"Sara," said Caitlin, looking up. "Yes, we're back. How are you feeling?"

Sara frowned as she took stock. "Terrible," was the honest reply, but that wasn't what she was interested in. She knew she'd survive and she felt better now than she had before. She was more concerned about the man sleeping in the other bed. "How's Rip?"

Caitlin sighed. "He's getting there. Gideon's got him on a glucose drip and a few other things to help him recover. He gave us a bit of a scare when he went into v-fib but he pulled through. He's going to be tired and weak though, even when he wakes up, and maybe for a while after that. We're dealing with the unknown here. Even Gideon's databanks can't help us much."

Sara pushed herself up from the couch. Her limbs felt like lead, and she just wanted to go back to sleep, but she was too stubborn. She needed to check on him for herself.

"Sara, you should really stay in bed for a bit longer," said Caitlin, but the doctor had obviously realised that wasn't going to happen, because she'd risen from her chair and was at her side in a few short steps.

That was good, because when Sara planted her feet on the ground, her legs nearly gave up on her. She clung to the arm of the chair, and Caitlin held her up.

"Woah there, I did tell you to stay in bed," said Caitlin.

"Just get me to the chair. I just need to check on Rip and then I'll go back to bed," said Sara.

Caitlin gave her a disapproving look, but helped her walk to the chair and then sit. She also handed her a water bottle, except the cloudy colour of the liquid made it obvious that it wasn't water. Sara looked at it warily.

"Drink that. Gideon formulated it to help you get your electrolytes balanced again. It should at least help," said Caitlin.

Sara nodded and dutifully drank, making a face at the sweetness. Her attention was really on Rip though, on the way that his chest rose and fell, and the paleness of his skin. She lifted her heavy arm, which shook even at this slight action and put her hand on his. His skin was warm, and she could feel the blood moving in his veins, beating to the shallow contractions of his tired heart as he slept. It reassured her. He was really alive, and he would be okay now.

"How long until he wakes up?" she asked.

"I don't know," said Caitlin. "It could be a few days, it might be a lot more. Comas are unpredictable. Gideon's actually quite happy that he's sleeping. She said it's helping him to heal."

Sara nodded again. "Come on, Rip," she said, "you can do this."

Cisco appeared at the medbay door. "Oh, you're up, and… I can come back later." Sara realised that he was looking at where her hand was on top of Rip's. Sara let it drop to her lap.

"It's okay," said Sara.

"How's Rip doing?" asked Cisco.

"About the same," said Caitlin.

Cisco sighed, coming over to Rip's other side. "Hey, man, any time you want to wake up…"

Rip didn't stir, but then no one had really expected him to. Cisco sighed again.

Caitlin went to her friend and gave him a squeeze on his arm. "He's getting better, Cisco. He just needs time."

Cisco nodded. "Julian's gone to open the shop, but he's back at work on Monday. I don't know what we do about it after that. Kingston's visiting his daughter in New York, and none of us know enough to help out."

"Rip's antiques shop?" asked Sara.

Cisco nodded. "Yeah, we need to keep it going for him. He loves that place, and he'll be really upset if he loses customers." He looked down at Rip, giving him a small pat on his shoulder. "We'll think of something, buddy. Don't worry."

Sara frowned. She'd just assumed that now that Rip had been rescued he'd stay on the Waverider, but he hadn't wanted to stay before, so why would that have changed. She let out a small sigh of her own. She wasn't sure how she felt about the prospect of him leaving again. It certainly didn't make her feel good, especially after everything he'd just been through. He needed people to look after him, and rather irrationally, she'd hoped that would be her.

Caitlin was looking at her, and she realised she'd spoken but Sara hadn't heard her.

"You need to get back to bed, Sara," said Caitlin, repeating herself. "You need rest too, and Rip's going to be fine."

Sara did her best to stand, acquiescing without a fight because she was tired, and sitting next to Rip, wondering if he'd leave when he woke up, wasn't helping anyone. Caitlin hovered beside her, but didn't offer to help as she tottered back to her own medbay couch.

"Hey," she said, suddenly getting an idea. "I know someone who knows their antiques and I expect she'd be willing to help out."

"Great," said Cisco. "Who?"

"Kendra," said Sara. "I think we should call Kendra."

Caitlin was nodding. "Yes, she'd be perfect. She's just finished her Fine Art diploma."

Cisco was nodding with enthusiasm. "I'll call her. I should have thought of her before. She was complaining to me the other day that she didn't know what she wanted to do next."

"At least that's one less thing for Rip to worry about when he wakes up," said Caitlin.

Sara made it to the couch and got herself settled again, reattaching the cuff around her wrist. Caitlin handed her the bottle of not-water, and she reluctantly drank a bit more.

"That stuff is horrible," she said.

"I know, but it'll help," said Caitlin.

She looked back across at Rip. "He's going to need us when he wakes up. The Strix had him for two days and he said they fed on him every six hours. I was trapped in that cell with him for a few hours and it was scary and degrading, and they treated us like objects, not people. I don't want to think what it was like for him, all alone, not knowing if anyone was going to find him."

Caitlin's expression became more concerned as Sara spoke. "We'll be here for him. It isn't the first time we've needed to help him deal with something terrible. We're getting pretty good at it."

"We shouldn't have to be. He's been through too much. I don't know how much more he can take before he breaks so hard that we won't be able to fix him." Sara was examining his calm exterior for any signs of distress, but she could see none. Yet.

Caitlin nodded. "I know. I worry about that too, but he's got friends. We'll do everything we can."

"Just make sure there aren't any sharp objects within reach. He's going to find a way to blame himself for this," said Sara. "And when he's blaming himself… nothing good ever comes of it."

"We know," said Caitlin. "But you were stuck there with him and if you need anyone to talk to then you know where to find me."

Sara looked up at the doctor, taking in her kind eyes and genuine expression. "Thanks, I may take you up on that, especially if this is as bad as I think it's going to be."

"Just remember, if you're going to be there for him, you have to be well enough yourself first," said Caitlin.

Sara took a deep breath. She was glad she'd gone back to the couch. The crushing tiredness was making her bones heavy and she was only a few minutes away from just giving in to sleep again.

"I understand," said Sara. Selfcare first, but if Rip needed her then she'd do her best to be ready.

* * *

Rip awoke into a world that had the consistency of thick syrup. Every breath was an effort and he felt so far beyond tired that he didn't think that even exhausted covered it. He needed some new word for extreme fatigue that would encompass this new level of utter, core deep, weariness. Every centimetre of his body ached, but particularly his head. The mere idea of opening his leaden eyelids was distasteful, but it appeared that he might have to, because someone was calling his name.

"Rip?" asked a voice. "I know you don't want to wake up, but you need to."

He really did just want to sleep. Sleep was good, it hurt less there, and he was so very tired and sore.

"Try again, Captain Lance. His vital signs show he is returning to consciousness. He may need a little help," said Gideon.

Well, that meant he was on the Waverider. Someone took his hand and squeezed. He could feel soft fingers on his rough, dry skin but the slight pressure hurt unexpectedly, more than it should. He tried to pull away, but he could hardly move at all.

"Rip, it's time to wake up. Come on, open those eyes."

"Hmm," he murmured, his voice ragged and thin. He struggled valiantly and managed to do as asked and open his eyes. He blinked to clear his vision and found that he was staring up at the ceiling of the medbay. That wasn't unexpected given how terrible he felt.

"There you are," said Sara, and he recognised her voice now.

He turned his head and it took so much effort that he almost gave up, but it was worth it because Sara was sat beside him. His eyes met hers and for a moment he saw the relief there. He tried to move and found that his limbs were weighed down just by the air around him. Even the blanket that was over him felt like it was made of sheet lead, pinning him to the couch. He could twitch his fingers but really anything else was totally beyond him. He frowned.

"Hi there," said a second voice, Caitlin this time. His eyes found her on the other side of the bed to Sara. "Everything's going to be okay, I promise."

"What happened to me?" he asked, hardly recognising his own voice.

"The Strix, that's what happened to you. They were draining your energy. You've probably got no strength and you feel like you want to sleep for a year," said Sara.

Yes, the memories came flooding back now, and he sort of wished that they hadn't. Blue metal, pain, the tube in his nose and the all-enveloping fatigue. And Sophia… Poor Sophia who he hadn't been able to save. One more unfortunate that he'd failed. But Sara was looking at him and expecting some kind of continuation of the conversation, and getting lost in memories wasn't something he could cope with at the moment. When he was alone, then he'd be able to break down, but not here, not in front of Sara and Caitlin, at least not if he could possibly help it.

"How did you know?" he asked, and then had to cough because his throat was too dry for words.

Sara reached for something beside the medical couch, and then put a straw to his lips. He raised his eyebrows.

"Drink and I'll explain."

He gripped the straw in his mouth and sucked the liquid, grimacing at the taste. It was horribly sweet, like drinking a bag of sugar. His stomach didn't feel exactly happy about the liquid hitting it either.

"Sorry, it's mostly glucose and a few other things that Gideon thinks you need," said Sara. "I know, it tastes terrible. Gideon's had me drinking it too."

Caitlin nodded. "You're basically starving. Your body's been trying to break down your fat reserves, but firstly you don't have much in the way of fat reserves, and secondly it can't do it fast enough to meet demand. The Strix took more than you had to give. You're going to be tired for a while until we can get you eating properly and build your strength back up."

"Gideon says you'll be fine," said Sara, clearly aiming to reassure him. She offered him the straw again, and he sipped. "And to answer your question, I knew you felt like that because they tried the same thing on me. Luckily Barry hit the Strix before he could drain much, but I slept for twelve hours and still felt like I needed more."

Rip blinked tiredly. "Right. You rescued me. Did I say thank you?"

Sara grinned at him. "Not yet."

"Thank you," he replied, and squeezed her hand to emphasise it. It took more effort than he wanted to admit, and his muscles ached.

"It was a group effort," said Sara. "Everyone helped."

"How long was I out?"

"Nearly three days," said Caitlin.

"Three days?!" he said, with incredulity, and he still felt terrible.

"Yeah, you were pretty weak after the Strix spent two days draining your energy," said Sara. "You needed the sleep."

He got the feeling that wasn't the full story, but he'd have to ask Caitlin about that later.

"I suppose I must have done. What did you do with the Strix?" he asked.

"Argus have them," replied Caitlin. "Cisco managed to build a teleportation blocker, so they won't be getting out any time soon."

Rip took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. His body felt useless, his muscles uncooperative, and his inability to move was claustrophobic.

"I don't think I've ever been this tired before, and I can hardly move."

Sara smoothed down his hair, and he didn't shy away from the contact. It actually felt quite good after the misery of being trapped in the cell on the Strix ship. Images of blue, metal walls flashed across his vision, and he tried to squash them back down. He did not need more fuel for his PTSD. It had been horrible, but he was safe, and it was over.

"I know, but you're getting stronger. Go back to sleep and I'll see you when you wake up again," said Sara.

"I'd rather not sleep just now," said Rip, knowing that nightmares most likely lurked there.

"Rip, you really need the rest," said Caitlin. "Your body is exhausted, and the only thing that's going to fix that is sleep."

"I can provide assistance if it's required," said Gideon.

"Thank you, Gideon, but it's not that I can't sleep, I don't want to," replied Rip. "I've just woken up."

"Are you hungry?" asked Caitlin.

Rip thought for a moment. "No. That's strange, isn't it?"

"Not really. Your body thinks it was starved, and starvation victims often have suppressed appetites. It's one of the stranger ways that the body deals with lack of food and energy," said Caitlin. "We'll maybe try some liquids tomorrow and step up from there. We'll take it slowly, so your body has time to readjust and we avoid Refeeding Syndrome."

Rip nodded. He was familiar with recovery from starvation. This wasn't his first time or even his second of dealing with lack of food, although this wasn't exactly the same and at least this time he didn't have to deal with dehydration as well.

"Come on, be sensible, Rip. Nothing's going to change while you get some sleep. The bad guys are in Argus, and everyone is safe," said Sara.

Rip shook his head. Not everyone was safe, but the words stuck in his throat. He felt his heart beat faster in his chest and his breathing picked up with it. He didn't want to lose control here, now, in front of his friends, but he could feel his careful emotional restraint fading just as Sophia's screams had faded eventually.

"Rip?" asked Caitlin, looking up at the heart trace on the monitor.

"What's the matter?" asked Sara, concern infusing the single phrase.

He took a moment to just get enough breath and composure to be able to speak, and when he did, his voice trembled with the struggle of suppressed emotion. The words were spoken with effort, forced from his mouth because he needed someone else to know. Someone else should remember Sophia.

"The Strix needed me because they'd nearly exhausted their previous victim. They had another Time Master, her name was Sophia Reese and they killed her," said Rip, and then had to swallow awkwardly before he could continue. "I tried to escape, but I was too weak, and… I couldn't save her."

Rip turned away, but he felt Sara's hand on his cheek and he found himself looking up at her. He was trying hard to understand what he was feeling. He had barely known Sophia, and yet he felt desperately sad. It hurt him to think about her.

"Hey, nothing the Strix did was your fault," said Sara. "I'm sorry about the other Time Master, and I'm sorry we didn't find you faster."

"You did the best you could," said Rip, with a sigh. He could wish as much as he liked that it hadn't taken them two days to find him, but it had, and they couldn't undo that. He refused to blame them or let Sara blame herself for that. "It's just one more person that I failed. I heard her die, and I couldn't reach her…" He found himself dragged back to the Strix' ship, tied down, immobilised and in pain, listening to Sophia die. He closed his eyes against the memory, but if anything, the dark made it stronger, and his fingers curled into fists as he tried to breathe.

One of Gideon's alarms went off. It sounded like it was underwater, muffled and wrong.

"Rip, you're safe," said Caitlin. "You're on the Waverider. You need to concentrate on slowing your breathing and grounding yourself."

He felt Caitlin take his hand, rubbing his knuckles, but he was drifting backwards, into the memory and away from reality. He was struggling not to be taken under, to drown in the flashback, but realistically he knew that he had little choice. He'd have to endure it until he had relived it and could make his way back. He knew how this worked.

"Sara, he needs tactile stimuli to help him stay in the present," he heard Caitlin say, but it was distant, and the real world was fading. He moaned with remembered pain, his chest hurting and tight. He couldn't move because of the restraints.

"Rip, you're not there, you're here with us," said Sara, urgently. She was holding his hand and stroking his face, and he leaned towards it, trying desperately to get through the memory and out the other side. It helped. Sara helped, and he let her touch guide him out of his head.

He blinked up at her, no energy left in him, bewildered by his own emotions and groggy from being lost in his own head. He took in the curves of her face, the curls of her hair, the freckles on her nose, the concern in her eyes, and he despaired. He was broken, and she was strong. She had been in that cell too, and yet here she was offering him comfort. He would never be worthy of her, not in a million years, and definitely not when he had come so close to flying apart. And he had demonstrated his tragic, pathetic flaws in front of her.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I led them to you. You were hurt because of me."

Sara shook her head hard. "This wasn't anything to do with you. I'm glad they took me because it meant we found you a lot more quickly. I was worried. I was so worried about you."

Rip frowned at that. "About me?"

"Of course, you idiot, you went missing and I read the book about the Strix. They were trying to drain the life out of you," said Sara. "I don't know what I would have done if we hadn't found you in time."

Caitlin cleared her throat. "I'm just going to leave you two alone for a bit. Rip, sleep, don't fight it, and Sara, don't sit here too long. You're recovering too."

Sara turned briefly to Caitlin to acknowledge what she'd said, before all of her attention was on Rip again. Her eyes were blue, ocean deep, and like a clear lake without waves. Realisation hit him. He'd missed her so much whilst he'd been gone. How could he have not understood that before? It took all of his strength to reach up his hand and place it to cover hers.

"I missed you," he said.

He hadn't meant to say it, but he was tired, drained in fact. It wasn't a natural tiredness either, not the kind you got after a long day, but synthetic, aching exhaustion not of his own making. He wanted to stay awake with Sara, but his body didn't have the energy. His eyes fell shut, and his limbs went limp. This wasn't going to be like falling asleep, this was more like passing out, involuntary and with barely any transition.

He still felt her lips on his cheek though. They were soft and warm against his skin, and he kept the memory of them held tightly in his mind. It left less room for nightmares.

* * *

Caitlin threw Sara out of the medbay. There wasn't really any other way of putting it. She pushed her out of the door, told her to get a proper meal and then go to bed. Caitlin had made it clear that both her and Gideon would be very disappointed if that didn't happen. So, she'd gone to the galley, although her thoughts were still firmly with the man in medbay.

Ray was there, making a sandwich.

"Sara," he said, smiling warmly. "Caitlin let you out."

"More told me to get out," she said, with a little annoyance in her voice. "Apparently, I need to rest in my own bed, and Rip was distracting me."

"Rip woke up?" asked Ray, happily.

Sara nodded. "Yeah, and then went back to sleep. I think it's going to be a while before Gideon and Caitlin let him out of the medbay."

"Yeah, he was out for a while. That's not much of a surprise. And how are you doing?" asked Ray, sitting down at the table.

"I'm fine. Just a little more tired than usual," said Sara.

She went to the fabricator and tried to decide what to eat. She stared at the buttons. She was hungry, but her stomach was still upset and she wasn't sure what would be best to soothe it.

"Perhaps you would like me to choose, Captain Lance," said Gideon.

"Just give me something boring. I don't know. Oatmeal maybe?"

"That would be a sensible choice," replied Gideon, and the bowl of oatmeal appeared on the tray of the fabricator.

"Glad you approve, Gideon," said Sara. She took her oatmeal and sat down at the table opposite Ray.

"Unfortunately, I expect that Captain Hunter will be less enthusiastic about my food choices for him over the next few days," said Gideon.

"He knows you have his best interests at heart, Gideon," said Sara, as she poked at the oatmeal.

"It can't be that bad," said Ray.

Sara nodded. "Tell me when it's time for his meals and I'll make sure he eats, Gideon."

"Your help would be appreciated, Captain Lance. He did seem to react favourably to your intervention earlier," said Gideon.

"All I did was talk to him," said Sara, a little floored that Gideon had been paying attention. She hadn't mentioned that she'd kissed Rip on the cheek though, and Sara would really prefer that wasn't mentioned in front of Ray. She was still trying to work out how she felt about Rip and what to do about it.

"Intervention?" asked Ray.

"He was a bit disorientated when he woke up. I just helped him work out where he was," said Sara, glossing over the flashback that she's witnessed. She doubted Rip would want everyone on the ship to know about the state of his mental health.

"He's not doing so well then?" asked Ray, correctly reading between the lines.

"Gee, Ray, I don't know? How do you think he should be doing? He was kidnapped, force fed, shackled to a wall, had to watch a friend die, and had the life sucked out of him," said Sara, a little crossly. Then she caught herself, and the hurt look in Ray's eyes. "Sorry, Ray. I'm just worried about him. He's still not well, and it's going to take him a long time to bounce back from this."

Ray nodded. "You know we'll all do our best to help him. We can't jump until he's recovered enough anyway. I mean, assuming he's staying on board…"

Sara frowned, she hadn't really considered what might happen after they had him back.

"I don't know. Before all this happened, he wasn't enthusiastic to stay. I doubt that's changed."

That hurt to say more than she'd thought it would. She actually really had missed the idiot.

"I guess we'll have to wait until he's feeling up to talking about it," said Ray.

"Yeah, I guess so," replied Sara, and she was not relishing that conversation, but the question would have to be asked.

"Did you say that he had to watch a friend die?" asked Ray.

Sara nodded. "The Strix had another Time Master. The took Rip because they'd almost exhausted her as a food supply. Rip heard her die."

Ray's expression looked completely devastated, sandwich forgotten on his plate. "If I'd been faster… worked out where they were sooner…"

"Don't you start," said Sara, quickly cutting him off. "None of this was your fault. You worked as fast as was humanly possible. We had the entire STAR Labs team on this and none of them could find the ship either. Rip knows we found him as soon as we could. The Strix hurt our friend and killed Sophia, and now they're locked up in Argus. I think justice has been served."

Ray looked down. "Yeah, I suppose so. I just can't imagine what it was like for him. I've been captured, but I always knew you guys would come and get me. Do you think he knew we'd come, even if he isn't officially part of the crew at the moment?"

"Rip knew," said Sara, with certainty. "He knew that someone was looking for him. He had that at least."

Ray nodded. "Good, because I'd hate to think of him there, thinking we'd abandoned him."

"We wouldn't," said Sara. "Once a Legend, always a Legend. Those are the rules and you all just have to live with them."

Ray laughed at that, some of the cheer coming back into his expression. Sara realised that she'd probably have to have a similar conversation with a few other people on this issue too. Rip being taken had affected everyone, and they'd all need a little time to deal with what had happened.

* * *

Rip could have predicted that his recovery was going to be difficult, because when was anything in his life easy? He awoke from a half-remembered dream of blue metal corridors and pain, to find Sara gone, and the other medbay couch was empty. He had a strong urge to get up and find her, but he could hardly lift his head, so he wasn't going anywhere any time soon. Someone else was there, though.

"Hey," said Barry, "how are you doing?"

"I'm fine," said Rip, somewhat automatically, because the last thing he wanted to do was catalogue how he really felt.

"No, you're not," said Barry, his arms crossed over his chest, giving Rip one of those serious looks he occasionally managed.

"If you know, why did you ask?" Rip grumbled.

"I was hoping for something a bit more informative," said Barry. "But I guess I should have known better."

Rip sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He tried to lift a hand from the armrest that it was supported on and found that he still barely had any strength. His hand trembled, shaking with effort, probably because his electrolytes were still out of balance. He knew how this went, but the inability to move was something he'd never experience before. He gave up.

"How long was I asleep for?" he asked.

Barry checked the time on the display behind the couch. "About twelve hours. Caitlin said you'd probably need a lot of sleep."

He raised his eyebrows. He'd assumed a few hours at most. That was half a day.

"Drink?" asked Barry, suddenly beside his bed and with a straw ready for him to sip.

He nodded and took the straw, sucking in the liquid and swallowing. It was the same horribly sweet and strangely tasting concoction that he'd been given just after he'd awoken. It didn't taste any better now.

"Did Caitlin leave?" he asked.

"She went to get some sleep," said Barry. "And Sara went back to her quarters. She was a little unsteady on her feet, but Gideon said she'll be fine with a bit more rest."

"Good," said Rip. He tried to sit up, but he couldn't even get the strength together to lift himself up from the couch. He gave up with a groan, and his muscles reminded him that they couldn't do that right now.

"You're going to need to work up to that," said Barry.

"I'm going to need to work up to sitting?" asked Rip, with annoyance at his own weakness.

"Yeah, when the Strix fed on you, they attacked your body's processes on a cellular level. Gideon's been doing her best to heal you, but she said she's done the most she could for now without putting more strain on your organs," said Barry.

"Yes, medbay's healing processes can be quite taxing when applied to the entire body," said Rip. It took energy to heal, even with the medbay's help, and a damaged body had limits. It's why Gideon would often heal injuries in batches and over a period of hours or even days, and Rip was quite used to sleeping for several hours afterwards.

He looked upwards. "Gideon, how long until I can leave medbay?"

"That is dependent on your body's ability to recover. I would estimate several days. You still require careful monitoring to prevent Refeeding Syndrome," said Gideon.

"Of course," said Rip, bitterly.

He really didn't want to spend a minute longer than was necessary in medbay. The metal walls, and even the medical cuff, were reminding him of the cold cell, the manacles, and feeding apparatus that the Strix had used. It wasn't a pleasant memory and it threatened to pull him into another flashback if he wasn't careful. Just the thought gave him the beginnings of a panic attack and he actively had to slow his breathing.

"Rip?" asked Barry, looking worriedly at him.

"Could Dr Snow monitor me outside medbay?" asked Rip, still directing his question to Gideon.

Gideon didn't sound entirely enthused about that when she spoke. "If necessary, but it would be less efficient."

He let out a long breath and tried again not to think about the Strix and Sophia and seeing Sara cuffed to the wall like he was, like Sophia had been. The memories scuttled across the backs of his retinas, threatening to overwhelm the present at any moment. He screwed his eyes shut.

"Rip? Tell me what's going on," said Barry, and he could hear the worry in his voice. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

Rip forced himself to open his eyes and he did his best to breathe more slowly. He couldn't cope with a second flashback and he wouldn't allow himself to be taken by the memories from the here and now. He used every scrap of willpower that he had and looked up at Barry's concerned face, pushing away the recent past.

"It's nothing," said Rip, ignoring the slight tremor in his own voice, "I'm just tired and a little sore."

"Right, makes sense," said Barry, definitely aware that he wasn't being given the entire truth.

It wasn't exactly a lie. He was tired, not sleepy again yet, but weary in mind and body, and his muscles ached from trying to move.

"You know you can tell me anything?" said Barry, with an innocent frankness that Rip always marvelled at.

"Thank you," said Rip, possibly more curtly than he really had meant to, "but I'm honestly fine for now."

Barry sighed, apparently realising that he wasn't going to get any more out of him.

"Maybe you should try to get some more sleep?"

Rip shook his head, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. "I'm not tired." That was a huge lie, but he really didn't want to return to his dreams of the Strix ship and Sophia.

Luckily, Sara came walking back into medbay at that point. She looked a lot better than when he'd last seen her. The colour had returned to her face, the paleness being replaced by a much healthier skin tone. He couldn't help but smile a little.

"You're awake," she said, with a smile of her own. "Hey, Barry, how's he doing?"

"I'm right here," said Rip.

"And getting a straight answer from you is impossible," said Sara.

"He's okay," said Barry. "Mostly."

"Mostly?" asked Sara.

"I just had a small… moment," said Rip. "I'm fine now, and I don't want to talk about it."

Sara looked like she was considering pressing him on that, but then apparently decided not to.

"Caitlin said we could try some food if you're feeling up to," she said, instead.

Rip didn't feel up to it, but he was also aware that this was the stage after starvation where he probably wouldn't be hungry. The voracious appetite would follow later, and then he'd probably have to restrain himself from eating everything in sight. He vividly remembered Gideon locking him out of the fabricator after his imprisonment in Egypt. He'd been through the stage of not being at all hungry and Gideon coaxing him through eating a bowl of oatmeal, feeling nauseous at every bite, and then he'd moved onto being ravenous and would have happily eaten anything that he could have made or found.

Gideon had been strict with him though, despite his complaining. She'd made him read the studies on Refeeding Syndrome and whilst he'd still grumbled, he appreciated that she had his best interests at heart. Starving metabolisms behaved differently to normal metabolisms and eating too much too quickly could kill him more quickly than no food at all. It had been weeks before he'd returned to normal eating patterns, and even then, his instincts to hoard food struck him at the strangest times.

Sara was adjusting the medbay couch so that he was sitting up, pulling up a chair beside him and moving a table on wheels over. She had a bowl of something that resembled light brown paste on the tray she set in front of him. She held out the spoon towards him.

"What is that?" he asked, with undisguised dread.

"High energy peanut paste," said Sara. "Recommended by Caitlin and approved by Gideon."

He knew he wasn't going to get out of this, and there were probably worse things he could have been given. He raised his shaking hand and took the spoon, and immediately realised that there was no way he could lift the spoon long enough or with enough accuracy to actually eat with it. However, his stubborn streak made him at least try, but his shaking fingers lost their grip and the implement clattered onto the tray. He tried again with exactly the same result.

"Bollocks," he murmured, too weary to put any real effort behind the expletive.

He closed his eyes with embarrassment, leaning his head back against the headrest, and felt Sara's hand on his neck. When he opened his eyes again, she was looking at him with sympathy and warmth, but not a trace of pity. He really wanted to thank her for that alone, but he couldn't find the words.

"Barry," she said, glancing back at the speedster. "I think Rip and I will be okay on our own for a bit. Maybe you should go and get some lunch."

Barry looked between the two of them, and seemed to get the message that something was going on here. "Okay, get Gideon to call if you need someone to take over again."

Sara waited until Barry left. "Gideon, close and lock the medbay door, please."

"Yes, Captain Lance," said Gideon.

Rip frowned. "Why are we locking the door?"

"Because I know you," said Sara, "and you won't want an audience, even though anyone on this ship would understand, and no one would think less of you."

She picked up the spoon, scooped up a bit of the peanut butter and moved it towards Rip's mouth.

"No!" he said, with horror. "You are not feeding me."

She dropped the spoon back in the bowl. "Okay, you do it then."

He gave her an annoyed look, and held up his shaking hand. "I don't think that would end well. I'm sure I'll be fine on the IV for a little while longer."

"Okay, so either you don't eat and you have to put up with Gideon being disapproving, which will probably be followed by Caitlin telling you off, or you let me do this," said Sara.

"I'm not a child, Sara," he replied, clipping the ends of his words with irritation.

"No, but you aren't well, and you need help. You'll get better faster if you actually eat something, so would you just accept the fact that you need someone to do this for you?" said Sara. She gave him a long look. "Is it me that's the problem? Do you want someone else?"

He shook his head. "No, if anyone has to do this then I'd prefer it to be you." He looked down at the bowl again, a breath escaping his lips with resignation. He wasn't going to dwell on why he found Sara the least worst of his options, but he did have to acknowledge that was how he felt. "Fine, I suppose we should get this over with."

"Okay then," said Sara, in a no nonsense tone.

She picked up the spoon and Rip felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he opened his mouth and she fed him the peanut paste. It didn't taste too bad, but he felt undeniable shame at his weakness and inability to do this simple thing for himself.

"Rip," said Sara, pulling him out of his thoughts and placing her free hand over his shaking one, "you'll get better. It's probably only going to be another day and you'll have more of your strength back and be able to do this yourself."

He gave her a sad nod. "I know. It's just… difficult to admit that I'm too weak to even hold spoon."

He accepted a second spoonful, and she offered him a sip of the electrolyte solution through a straw to help wash it down. He swallowed and felt his stomach protest. He doubted he'd manage much on this sitting, it would take his stomach a little time to decide it could digest things again.

"You have friends, Rip, and we're here to help you," said Sara.

"I understand," said Rip, "I do, but we've discussed before my lack of enthusiasm for being helped…" he trailed off because Sara wasn't really giving him much choice about it, and she was waiting for him to open his mouth again. He obliged once more, while she talked. The embarrassment was fading a bit and he was beginning to feel a bit less like a child and little more like a friend being assisted by another friend.

"Well, you might have to get used to it for a few days," said Sara. "You're not on your own anymore. You had the entirety of Team Flash and Team Legends looking for you, plus Barry brought Felicity over from Star City. That's a lot of people who care about you."

Rip found himself frowning again, and for a moment he wasn't quite sure how to respond.

"…I, er, care about them too."

Sara took another spoonful to his mouth and he swallowed again.

"I know you do," said Sara.

"And I care about you… especially, I mean," said Rip, and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Sara hesitated, before she gave him the next spoonful, and he was certain that he'd said something wrong. Perhaps it had been too much, but his brain was barely functioning, and certainly not up to full power at the moment.

Then she looked right at him. "Are you leaving again after this? I mean once you're well again?"

Rip hadn't really had much time to think about it, but he'd definitely assumed that he would go back to Central City and his antiques shop. "I can't stay, Sara. Nothing's changed. I'm still struggling, broken, probably more so now, and I need the space, the time, to find myself again."

"You don't need to leave to find yourself," said Sara. "We know who you are, and you belong here with us." She paused, the spoon still resting in the bowl. "You belong here with _me_."

Rip's eyes widened slightly. Perhaps his affection for Sara wasn't as one sided as he'd thought, but it didn't make any difference. His unresolved feelings had been the push he'd needed to leave, but the rest of what he'd said was also true. They didn't need him, and even if they did, he had to deal with his demons before he could be of any use to them.

He looked downwards unable to hold her gaze. "Just give me a little more time," he said, already hating himself for the words. When he looked back up, instead of the disappointment, or even anger, he expected to find in her expression, he only found compassion.

Her lips were forming the beginnings of a smile. "Okay, but don't take too long. I'm not going wait forever for you to come home."

"So noted, Captain Lance," murmured Rip.

She leaned in towards him and kissed him on the cheek, and he let out a small sigh of pleasure at the gesture. It was enough for now. He was hardly in any state for deeper displays of affection, but it promised so much, and it opened a door that he'd previously thought was closed to him. A smile graced his own lips now.

She leaned back and again picked up the spoon. "Can you manage a little more?"

He nodded, unable to find words right now, and she resumed feeding him until Rip's stomach refused more. It had only been a few additional spoonfuls, but it was better than nothing. Gideon administered some anti-nausea medicine, which helped, and he was finding it hard to keep his eyes open again. He didn't want to sleep, and he struggled against the pull of darkness. In his sleep he knew what he'd find, and he didn't want to hear Sophia's screams or remember what it was like to have his life drained from him.

His eyelids drooped, and he jerked them open.

"I don't want to sleep," he said, even his voice tired.

"I'll be here," said Sara.

He reached out with his hand and she took it, enclosing it with both of hers. It made him feel less vulnerable, knowing that she was by his side.

"I'll be here," she repeated, and with that he let himself sleep.


End file.
